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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #53152 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/53152)
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-The Project Gutenberg eBook, Motor Tours in Wales & the Border Counties,
-by Mrs. Rodolph Stawell, Illustrated by R. De S. Stawell
-
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions 
-whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at 
-www.gutenberg.org.  If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-
-
-
-Title: Motor Tours in Wales & the Border Counties
-
-
-Author: Mrs. Rodolph Stawell
-
-
-
-Release Date: September 27, 2016  [eBook #53152]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-
-***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOTOR TOURS IN WALES & THE BORDER
-COUNTIES***
-
-
-E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Paul Clark, and the Online Distributed
-Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made
-available by Internet Archive/American Libraries
-(https://archive.org/details/americana); book cover image digitized by the
-Google Books Library Project (http://books.google.com) and generously made
-available by HathiTrust Digital Library
-(https://www.hathitrust.org/digital_library)
-
-
-
-Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
-      file which includes the original illustrations.
-      See 53152-h.htm or 53152-h.zip:
-      (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/53152/53152-h/53152-h.htm)
-      or
-      (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/53152/53152-h.zip)
-
-
-      Images of the original pages are available through
-      Internet Archive/American Libraries. See
-      https://archive.org/details/motortoursinwale00staw
-
-
-Transcriber's note:
-
-      Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
-
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: Map.]
-
-
-MOTOR TOURS IN WALES AND THE BORDER COUNTIES
-
-
-[Illustration: VALLE CRUCIS ABBEY.
-
-_Frontispiece_]
-
-
-
-
-MOTOR TOURS IN WALES & THE BORDER COUNTIES
-
-by
-
-MRS. RODOLPH STAWELL
-
-With Photographs by R. De S. Stawell
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-Boston
-L. C. Page & Company
-1909
-
-
-
-
-CONTENTS
-
-
- I                                                                 PAGE
-
- SHROPSHIRE                                                           1
-
- II
-
- NORTH WALES                                                         65
-
- III
-
- THE HEART OF WALES                                                 135
-
- IV
-
- SOUTH WALES                                                        163
-
- V
-
- WYE VALLEY                                                         223
-
-
-
-
-ILLUSTRATIONS
-
-
- VALLE CRUCIS ABBEY                                      _Frontispiece_
-
-                                                            FACING PAGE
-
- LUDLOW CASTLE                                                        4
-
- THE FEATHERS HOTEL, LUDLOW                                           5
-
- TUDOR DOORWAY, LUDLOW CASTLE                                         6
-
- THE ROUND CHAPEL, LUDLOW CASTLE                                      7
-
- ENTRANCE TO HALL IN WHICH “COMUS” WAS FIRST PERFORMED               10
-
- STOKESAY CASTLE                                                     11
-
- OLD STREET IN SHREWSBURY                                            22
-
- RICHARD BAXTER’S HOUSE, EATON CONSTANTINE                           23
-
- BUILDWAS ABBEY                                                      28
-
- MADELEY COURT                                                       29
-
- HAUGHMOND ABBEY                                                     38
-
- WENLOCK PRIORY, ST. JOHN’S CHAPEL                                   39
-
- WENLOCK PRIORY, CHAPTER HOUSE                                       42
-
- BISHOP PERCY’S BIRTHPLACE, BRIDGNORTH                               43
-
- WHITTINGTON CASTLE                                                  64
-
- THE LLEDR VALLEY, FROM THE HOLYHEAD ROAD                            65
-
- THE OLD CHAPEL, BETTWS-Y-COED                                       82
-
- THE LLUGWY AT BETTWS-Y-COED                                         83
-
- CONWAY CASTLE                                                       90
-
- THE PASS OF NANT FFRANCON                                           91
-
- THE MENAI BRIDGE, FROM ANGLESEY                                    102
-
- CARNARVON CASTLE                                                   103
-
- DOLBADARN CASTLE                                                   106
-
- SNOWDON, FROM CAPEL CURIG                                          107
-
- NEAR BEDD GELERT                                                   120
-
- GATEWAY OF HARLECH CASTLE                                          121
-
- THE MAWDDACH, FROM TYN-Y-GROES HOTEL                               134
-
- LLANIDLOES                                                         135
-
- ARCHWAY AT STRATA FLORIDA                                          148
-
- NEAR GLANDOVEY                                                     149
-
- THE MAYOR’S HOUSE, MACHYNLLETH                                     156
-
- THE RIVER DULAS                                                    157
-
- THE PASS OF CORRIS, NEAR TAL-Y-LLYN                                158
-
- BALA LAKE                                                          159
-
- CAERPHILLY CASTLE                                                  172
-
- BEAUPRÉ CASTLE                                                     173
-
- EWENNY PRIORY                                                      180
-
- NEATH ABBEY                                                        181
-
- BRECON                                                             186
-
- GATEWAY, KIDWELLY CASTLE                                           187
-
- GOSCAR ROCK, TENBY                                                 196
-
- MANORBIER CASTLE, NEAR TENBY                                       197
-
- ENTRANCE TOWER, PEMBROKE CASTLE                                    202
-
- PEMBROKE COAST                                                     203
-
- CAREW CASTLE                                                       208
-
- ST. DAVID’S CATHEDRAL AND RUINS OF THE BISHOP’S PALACE             209
-
- ST. MARY’S COLLEGE, ST. DAVID’S                                    212
-
- ST. DAVID’S CATHEDRAL: INTERIOR                                    213
-
- KILGERRAN CASTLE, NEAR CARDIGAN                                    222
-
- THE WYE NEAR ITS SOURCE                                            223
-
- CONFLUENCE OF THE WYE AND THE MARTEG NEAR RHAYADER                 234
-
- HEREFORD                                                           235
-
- THE PREACHING CROSS, HEREFORD                                      238
-
- ROSS FROM WILTON                                                   239
-
- MONNOW BRIDGE, MONMOUTH                                            250
-
- RAGLAN CASTLE, ENTRANCE TOWER                                      251
-
- THE MOAT, RAGLAN CASTLE                                            254
-
- LLANTHONY PRIORY                                                   255
-
- INTERIOR OF LLANTHONY PRIORY, SHOWING THE EAST END                 258
-
- TINTERN ABBEY                                                      259
-
- TINTERN ABBEY                                                      266
-
- CHEPSTOW CASTLE                                                    267
-
-
-
-
-Much of the material of this book has appeared in the _Car Illustrated_,
-and is here reproduced by the kind consent of Lord Montagu.
-
-
-
-
-SHORT RUNS IN SHROPSHIRE
-
-
-There was once a tramp who said--“Och, now, it’s true what I’m tellin’
-ye; I never got a bit o’ good out o’ me life till I took to the road!”
-
-He was quite serious about it. He was a nice tramp, with a fine sense
-of romance and a large trust in the future, and on this first day of
-the tour his words ring in my head above the rush of the wind and
-the throbbing of the engine. For though all the days will be good,
-this first day is surely the best. To be on the road again; to have
-one’s luggage behind one and all the world in front; to watch the
-villages slipping by and mark their changing character; to saunter
-through strange towns and swing across great, desolate moorlands; to
-pause at some attractive inn, or eat sandwiches and sunshine by the
-wayside--this is the first day. History and the camera must wait; the
-first day must be given up to the sheer joy of the road.
-
-So, as we shall not be able to hurry in Shropshire, seeing that there
-history cannot be ignored, we shall do well to cross its border in the
-evening, and spend the night in Ludlow. We will drop gently down the
-hill by Ludford House, and cross the Teme when the light is growing
-dim, and we can only tell by the deepening of the shadows in the trees
-on the left that the castle stands among them. Then we will climb a
-short, steep hill into the town through the only one of the old gates
-that is still standing, turn to the right through the Bull Ring, and
-draw up before the famous carved front of the “Feathers.”
-
-[Illustration: LUDLOW CASTLE.]
-
-[Illustration: THE FEATHERS HOTEL, LUDLOW.]
-
-Here in this little town, in its historic inn, in its church and its
-great castle, we may find the concentrated essence, as it were, of the
-glamour of Shropshire--that borderland where the local stories have
-helped to make the history of England, and the quiet towns have seen
-wild deeds of courage and horror, and the fields have been red with
-blood; where every tiny village has its own tale of love or battle,
-of fair lady or fugitive king. This very house, the “Feathers,” has a
-world of romance in its timbered walls and panelled rooms, for it is
-far older than the beautiful Jacobean chimney-piece before which we
-shall presently dine. These moulded ceilings and elaborate carvings,
-it is said, were once the property of a member of that Council of the
-Welsh Marches that Edward IV. established to bring order into the
-affairs of this stormy neighbourhood, where the “Lords Marchers” had
-hitherto taken what they chose, and kept it if they could. It is said
-that the English King once asked by what warrant the Lords Marchers
-held their lands. “By this warrant,” said one of them grimly, drawing
-his sword--and the inquiry went no further.
-
-The President of this Council lived in the great castle that still
-stands so imposingly above the Teme, with its outer and inner baileys,
-its Norman keep and curious round chapel, and all its long, long
-memories.
-
-[Illustration: TUDOR DOORWAY, LUDLOW CASTLE.]
-
-[Illustration: THE ROUND CHAPEL, LUDLOW CASTLE.]
-
-Within these grey walls we may dream of many things, both pitiful and
-gay: of all the children who have played and the poets who have written
-here; of young Prince Arthur, who died here; of his bride, Katherine
-of Arragon; of poor Princess Mary--“my ladie Prince’s grace,” as they
-called her quaintly--the Queen of blood and tears. Edward IV. and his
-brother Edmund, dressed in green gowns, played in these courts as boys,
-and wrote a letter to their “right noble lord and father,” begging
-him daily to give them his hearty blessing, and to send them some
-fine bonnets by the next sure messenger; and here on the right is the
-roofless tower whose crumbling walls are haunted by the most touching
-memories in all Ludlow. For these weed-grown stones have echoed to the
-voices of Edward IV.’s little sons, who lived and laughed here with no
-thought of that grimmer Tower that is connected for ever with their
-names. There is still existing a wonderful letter written by the
-King to “his Castle of Lodelowe,” in which he gives the most minute
-instructions as to the education and general deportment of the Prince
-of Wales--not forgetting the baby’s bedtime. His Majesty, indeed, was
-definite on all points.
-
-“We will that our said son have his breakfast immediately after his
-mass; and between that and his meat to be occupied in such virtuous
-learning as his age shall suffer to receive.”
-
-His age at this time was three years. Not only was the virtuous
-learning to occupy him from breakfast till dinner, but during the
-latter meal “such noble stories as behoveth to a prince to understand
-and know” were to be read aloud to him; and “after his meat, in
-eschewing of idleness,” he was to be “occupied about his learning”
-again. It is a relief to read that after his supper he was to
-have “all such honest disports as may be conveniently devised for
-his recreation.” At eight o’clock his attendants were “to enforce
-themselves to make him merry and joyous towards his bed”; and, indeed,
-after so hard a day of virtuous learning and noble stories and honest
-disports, the poor child must have been glad to get there!
-
-Later on, when Sir Henry Sidney was President of the Council, this
-ground where we are standing was trodden by his son Philip, the pattern
-of chivalry, who “fearde no foe, nor ever fought a friend”; and it was
-through that doorway at the top of the inclined plane--then a flight of
-marble steps--that little Lady Alice Egerton, not knowing that she was
-on her way to immortality, passed on the evening that she took part in
-the first performance of _Comus_, which Milton had written for her.
-
-It is curious that in this venerable town so many of our thoughts
-should be claimed by the very young. Ludlow Castle, as one sits
-here thinking of the past, seems to be peopled with the ghosts of
-children. And even in the church whose great tower gives Ludlow so
-distinguished an air, the church where the solemn Councillors of the
-Marches have their pompous tombs, we find the grave of Philip Sidney’s
-little sister. “Heare lyethe the bodye of Ambrozia Sydney, iiijth
-doughter of the Right Honourable Syr Henrye Sydney ... and the Ladye
-Mary his wyef.” It is sometimes said, too, that Prince Arthur, Henry
-VII.’s young son, is buried here, but this is not the case. There is a
-cenotaph that was, perhaps raised in his memory, but his body was taken
-to Worcester Cathedral.
-
-These are the gentler memories of Ludlow. Of the fiercer kind there is
-no lack, from the old fighting days of the de Lacy who built the keep,
-and the de Dinan who built the round chapel, down through centuries of
-siege and battle to the time of the Civil War, when the King’s flag
-flew here longer than on any other castle of Shropshire.
-
-Ludlow might well be chosen as a centre for motor drives in
-Herefordshire, Shropshire, and Worcestershire. But for the moment we
-are concerned with Shropshire only, and the centre of that county, in
-every sense, is Shrewsbury; and so, sad though it is to leave Ludlow
-so soon, we must glide away down the steep pitch beyond the door of
-the “Feathers,” past the railway station, past the racecourse, and
-over the twenty-nine miles of excellent and level road that lie between
-Ludlow and Shrewsbury.
-
-[Illustration: ENTRANCE TO HALL IN WHICH “COMUS” WAS FIRST PERFORMED.]
-
-The first village on this road, Bromfield, is very typical of the
-villages of Shropshire at their best. The black-and-white cottages seem
-to have been set in their places with an eye to pictorial effect; the
-stream and bridge are exactly in the right spot; and to complete the
-picture, a beautiful old gatehouse stands a little way back from the
-road. It is built half of stone, half of timber and plaster, and was
-once the gateway of a Benedictine Priory which is mentioned in Domesday
-Book as being of some importance. It leads now to the church, and is
-one of those unexpected touches of beauty and interest that may meet
-one’s eye at any turn of a Shropshire road.
-
-[Illustration: STOKESAY CASTLE.
-
-_Photo by W. D. Haydon._]
-
-At Onibury we cross the line and the river Onny, and about a mile and
-a half further on we should begin to look for Stokesay Castle on the
-left. As it is a little way from the main road, and partly hidden by
-trees, it is easy to miss it when travelling at a good pace; but
-it is perhaps the most attractive ruin in Shropshire from an artist’s
-point of view, and should on no account be neglected. It is really a
-fortified house rather than a castle, and the mingling of the warlike
-with the domestic gives it a peculiar charm. The northern end, with its
-irregular roof and overhanging upper storey, the “Solar Room,” with its
-magnificent carved chimney-piece, and even the timbered gateway, are
-all merely suggestive of a dwelling-house; and it is only when we turn
-to the curious polygonal tower that we remember how in the old days an
-Englishman’s house was either very literally his castle or was likely
-to become some other Englishman’s house at an early date. As far as I
-know, however, the only time that Stokesay had to make any use of its
-defences was when it was garrisoned for the King during the Civil War,
-and on that occasion it seems to have yielded without much ado.
-
-It is by very pleasant ways that this road is leading us--between
-wooded hills and over quiet streams. The valley narrows and is at
-its prettiest near Marshbrook and Little Stretton; then the pointed
-hill of Caradoc became conspicuous, and beyond it the famous Wrekin
-appears--famous not for its beauty, but because, being in the centre of
-the county, it can be seen by nearly every one in Shropshire, and so
-has gathered round it the sentiment of all Salopian hearts. “To friends
-all round the Wrekin!” is the famous Shropshire toast, and there,
-far away to the right, is the isolated rounded hill that means so
-much to those born within sight of it. At Stretton we leave the hills
-and wooded valleys behind us, and pass through a few miles of rather
-dull country. It is at the village of Bayston Hill that we first see,
-dimly blue against a background of hills, the slender spires--almost
-unrivalled in beauty--of that fair town which long ago the Welsh named
-_Y Mwythig_, the Delight.
-
-The history of Shrewsbury is stirring, and very, very long. When
-England was still in the making she stood there on her hill, looking
-down at the encircling river that has defended her for so many
-centuries. Nearly every street is connected in some way with history;
-every second house is haunted by some great name. Many large and solemn
-books have been written about Shrewsbury, and not one of them is
-dull. Even in these few hundred yards between the river and our hotel
-how many memories there are! As we turn on to the English Bridge to
-cross the Severn we should glance backwards to the right at the red
-tower and great west window of the Abbey founded by the Conqueror’s
-kinsman, Roger de Montgomery, a man of mark; and then, having crossed
-the steep rise and fall of the bridge, we climb into the heart of the
-town by the hill called the Wyle Cop. It was up this steep hill that,
-not so very long ago, the London coach used to dash, turning into the
-yard of the Lion Hotel at a pace that is still spoken of with awe
-and admiration. If we were to do the like we should probably have to
-pay five pounds and costs, so we will ascend the Cop in a way more
-conducive to dreaming of the past: of Harry Tudor on his way to “trye
-hys right” at Bosworth, with the welcoming citizens strewing flowers
-before him; of the more stately procession that wound up the hill when
-he came back as Henry VII. with his Queen and young Prince Arthur; of
-Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, and his stepson Essex, after their
-reception by bailiffs and aldermen, “and other to the number of xxiiij
-scarlet gowns, with the scollars of the freescoole,” listening wearily
-“at the upper end of the Wylde Coppe,” to three orations! Henry Tudor,
-when he reached the Wyle Cop, was glad to take shelter for the night
-in that picturesque little black-and-white house with the overhanging
-top storey and the tiled roof--it is on the left, rather more than
-half-way up the hill--for he had not won his way into the town without
-difficulty. “The gates weare shutt against him and the portculleys lett
-downe,” and a bailiff of the town--“a stout, wise gentleman,” we are
-told--vowed that Henry should only enter over his prostrate body. So,
-when Henry had made it clear that he did not mean to hurt the town,
-“nor none therein,” the only way for the stout, wise gentleman to keep
-his word was by lying down on the ground and allowing his future king
-to step over him. Thus did Henry of Richmond come in triumph to the
-little house on the Wyle.
-
-If we are going to the “Raven,” or the “Crown,” as is probable, we
-turn to the right near the top of the hill, and pass the beautiful old
-timbered house--which stands on the right hand, a little back from the
-street--where Princess Mary stayed on her way to Ludlow after she had
-been created _Prince_ of Wales; and a little further up, on the left,
-is the many-gabled house where Prince Rupert lived for a time when he
-was here with Charles I. On each side of us rises one of the slender
-spires that are the pride of Shrewsbury. St. Alkmund’s Church, on the
-left, was founded by Alfred’s daughter Ethelfleda, known as the Lady
-of the Mercians; a lady, it would seem, of some force. “A woman of
-an enlarged soul,” William of Malmesbury calls her; and adds: “This
-spirited heroine assisted her brother greatly with her advice, and was
-of equal service in building cities.” It is gravely recorded in a
-serious chronicle that in 1533 “the dyvyll apearyd in Saint Alkmond’s
-Churche there when the preest was at highe masse with greate tempest
-and darknes, so that as he passyd through the churche he mountyd up the
-steeple in the sayde churche, teringe the wyer of the sayde clocke, and
-put the prynt of hys clawes uppon the iiijth bell.” This steeple on our
-left was the very scene of this feat; but the body of the church was
-rebuilt in the eighteenth century. Another old Shrewsbury church, St.
-Chad’s, had fallen down, and the congregation of Saint Alkmund’s feared
-a repetition of the disaster. In the case of St. Alkmund’s, however, it
-was the rebuilding that was the disaster.
-
-The story of St. Mary’s lovely spire, on our right, is full of
-incident. In 1572 it was “blown aside by wind”; in 1594 “there fell
-such a monstrous dry wind, and so extreme fierce ... that the like was
-never seen of those that be living ... the force whereof removed the
-upper part of St. Mary’s steeple out of his place towards the south
-about five inches”; in 1662 the steeple was “taken down six yards
-from the top”; in 1690 it was damaged by an earthquake; in 1754 it was
-“shattered by a high wind”; in 1756 the newly-built part was again
-“blown aside”; in 1818 the upper part “became loose”; and during a
-terrific storm in 1894 fifty feet of its masonry fell through the roof
-of the nave shortly after the evening service. Most wonderfully this
-last disaster did no damage to the stained glass, which is St. Mary’s
-great glory and has itself had an eventful existence; for some of it
-was in old St. Chad’s when it fell, and much of it, long ago, filled
-the windows of religious houses in Germany.
-
-The slender columns and pointed arches of this lovely church have rung
-to the voice of Charles I., who once proclaimed his good intentions
-within these walls, and knelt, harassed and nearly uncrowned, before
-this altar. It was in St. Mary’s, too, that James II. touched for the
-King’s Evil.
-
-Just beyond the church is the Crown Hotel, and whether we stay there or
-at the “Raven,” a hundred yards away, we shall hear the bells of St.
-Mary’s, once described as “the comfortablest ring of bells in all the
-town,” and the chiming clock that was the bequest of Fanny Burney’s
-Uncle James, and the curfew, which still rings every night at nine. And
-after the curfew we shall hear the number of the day of the month rung
-out--a relic of the times before cheap almanacs existed.
-
-There is no doubt that the most satisfactory way of seeing Shropshire
-is to spend a few nights in Shrewsbury, and make it the basis of
-operations; for Shrewsbury lies exactly in the centre of the county,
-and is the meeting-point of a particularly large number of good roads.
-The old town itself, too, does not deserve to be hurried through. The
-longer one stays in it the more one feels the charm of its gentle old
-age.
-
-The Old School Buildings are within a stone’s-throw of us, with all
-their memories of the wise and great: memories that are, as a matter
-of fact, older than themselves; for though Charles Darwin was educated
-within these very walls, it was in an older building of wood, standing
-on the same spot, that Philip Sidney was a schoolboy--gentle and
-grave, and as much loved then as he was destined to be all his life,
-and is still. It was while he was here that his father wrote him a
-“very godly letter ... most necessarie for all yoong gentlemen to
-be carried in memorie,” which his mother, who added a postscript
-“in the skirts of my Lord President’s letter,” considered to be so
-full of “excellent counsailes,” that she begged Philip to “fayle not
-continually once in foure or five daies to reade them over.” The
-counsels were certainly excellent. “Be humble and obedient to your
-master,” says Sir Henry, “... be courteous of gesture.... Give yourself
-to be merie ... but let your mirth be ever void of all scurrillitie and
-biting words to any man.... Above all things, tell no untruth, no not
-in trifles”; and he ends quaintly: “Well, my little Philip, this is
-enough for me, and I feare too much for you.” If my Lord President had
-not also been my Lord Deputy of Ireland one might have loved him nearly
-as much as his son.
-
-Neither he nor Philip ever saw the timbered gatehouse that stands
-opposite to the Old School Buildings, but in the red Council House to
-which it leads, Sir Henry always stayed when he made official visits
-to Shrewsbury. There were fine doings on these occasions; banquets
-and processions, with “knightly robes most valiant,” and many scarlet
-gowns; masquerades, too, by the boys of the school, who appeared now
-as soldiers, now as nymphs, and made orations in both characters.
-Later on the same red house sheltered Charles I., when he came here
-to collect men and money. Half the plate in the county disappeared
-into his mint, which was set up, some say, in a little tottering house
-that may still be seen in an alley on Pride Hill--a fragment of green
-and weather-worn stone that is one of the most picturesque things in
-Shrewsbury. Some of the money that Charles “borrowed” on this occasion
-was well spent in repairing the Castle, which is quite near the Council
-House. The Castle is now a private dwelling, and one cannot walk about
-the grounds without permission; but the oldest part of it is the great
-entrance-gate, which all may see; the gate that was built by Roger
-de Montgomery and attacked by Stephen; the gate through which Henry
-IV. rode out to the famous Battle of Shrewsbury. The Castle itself,
-as it now stands, was probably mostly built by Edward I.; but it
-suffered so much through the centuries from siege, and treachery, and
-time, that many repairs were necessary to secure it a peaceful old
-age as a dwelling-house. Every motorist who is properly grateful to
-his benefactors, will be interested to know that it was the engineer
-Telford who carried out these repairs. He actually lived in the Castle
-for a time, I believe, and he certainly built the “Laura” tower, which
-stands on the foundations of the old watch-tower. Telford was in
-Shrewsbury when the tower of Old St. Chad’s showed signs of collapsing,
-and, on his advice being asked, said the church should be repaired
-without delay. The Parish Vestry begged him to meet them in St. Chad’s
-to discuss the matter, and demurred so long at the expense that at last
-Telford walked out of the church, saying grimly that he would rather
-talk the matter over in some place where there was less danger of the
-roof falling on his head. Two or three days later it fell.
-
-Not far from the fragments of this ruined church is the High Street,
-where are some of the oldest and prettiest houses in the town; and hard
-by is the Tudor marketplace, with its statue of Richard, Duke of York.
-The claims of the Unitarian chapel in the same street are not based on
-beauty, but on the fact that Coleridge’s voice once rose in it “like a
-steam of rich distilled perfumes,” according to William Hazlitt, who
-had walked ten miles to hear Coleridge preach here, and was as much
-delighted, he says, “as if he had heard the music of the spheres.”
-Charles Darwin attended the services of this chapel as a boy, but was
-baptized in New St. Chad’s, the eighteenth-century church near the
-Quarry, within whose classical walls Dr. Johnson once worshipped. The
-Doctor’s famous rolling walk, too, of which we have all heard so much,
-was once seen under the splendid limes of the Quarry.
-
-[Illustration: OLD STREET IN SHREWSBURY.
-
-_Photo by W. D. Haydon._]
-
-[Illustration: RICHARD BAXTER’S HOUSE, EATON CONSTANTINE.]
-
-As we entered Shrewsbury by the English Bridge we caught a glimpse of
-the Abbey behind us. Leaving the town by the London Road, on our way
-to see something of the eastern side of the county, we shall pass
-close by the old red building that was partly spared when Roger de
-Montgomery’s great monastery was dissolved. It will be worth while to
-stop the engine for a moment, and to look at the massive Norman piers
-of the nave, the fine altar-tombs, and the fragment of St. Winifred’s
-shrine. The founder himself was buried here, after a long life of storm
-and stress, and three days in a monk’s habit; but the knightly figure
-that has been thought to represent him is said by the best authorities
-to be of a later date than his. This Roger is very prominent in
-Shropshire history, and is, indeed, not unknown in that of England, for
-he figured in the Battle of Hastings, and wherever he figured he made
-himself felt. We hear many conflicting things of his character, but
-from them all we gather that he was a typical man of his day, spending
-his time chiefly in acquiring his neighbour’s goods, and his leisure
-moments in building abbeys. Having built this Abbey of Shrewsbury he
-was careful to see that other people enriched it, and it soon became
-one of the most important in England. Its actual buildings covered ten
-acres: yet now all of it that we can see is this restored church, and,
-across the road, a relic of a later date. There, in the din and dust
-of a coal-yard, stands the graceful stone pulpit that was once in the
-refectory wall. From under its delicately carved canopy a lay brother
-read pious works aloud to the monks while they ate.
-
-As we drive up the Abbey Foregate, between the trees and old houses,
-the memory of the Benedictines is with us still; for it was down
-this road that the monks, with their abbot at their head, came once
-in solemn procession with the bones of St. Winifred. These, by the
-combined use of a smooth tongue and a stout spade, they had brought
-triumphantly away from the churchyard of a Welsh village, knowing full
-well that no wealth of lands and churches enriched a monastery so
-surely as a handful of saintly dust.
-
-At the top of the Foregate is the column on which Lord Hill stands
-above a list of his battles. Here we keep to the London Road, and are
-soon in the open country. We are bound for Boscobel, but as there is
-a good deal to be seen on the way, a round of forty-three miles is not
-as short as it seems. Between Shrewsbury and Atcham the scenery is
-not particularly interesting, but the road is level and the surface
-good, so we have our compensations. From the picturesque bridge at
-Atcham there is a lovely view of distant Caradoc, with the Severn in
-the foreground, and on the river bank the old church that is said to
-have been largely built, like that at Wroxeter, of the stones from the
-Roman city of Uriconium. We are very near that city now. If we take
-the first turn to the right after leaving Atcham, we shall soon be
-actually passing over the ashes of “the White Town in the Woodland,”
-as it was called by the Welsh poet who sang of its tragic end; and a
-moment later we shall see, near the roadside, a fragment of the wall of
-its basilica. By asking for the key at a cottage close at hand, and by
-paying sixpence, we may see also the remains of its public baths, and a
-piece of tesselated pavement that might have been laid down yesterday.
-Many relics of this town that was built by the Romans, inhabited by
-the British, and burnt by the Saxons, have been found within the limits
-of the hundred and seventy acres that it once covered: skeletons of
-men and women crouching where they had vainly sought safety in the
-hypocausts of the burning baths; coins scattered by fugitives; pathetic
-trifles of women’s dress--hairpins, buckles, and a brooch whose pin
-still works. Older than these are the urns and tombstones found in the
-Roman cemetery; the tombstone of Petronius, who is thought to have
-taken part in the victory over Boadicea; and that of “Placida, aged
-fifty-four, raised by the care of her husband.” Most of the relics have
-been moved, for safe keeping, to the Museum in Shrewsbury.
-
-From Uriconium a very pretty road leads us to Buildwas. The Severn
-winds below us on the right, and on the hillside to the left is the
-little village of Eaton Constantine, which Constantine the Norman--who
-also gave his name to the Côtentin in France--held in the days of
-Domesday Book at a rental of a pair of white gloves, valued at one
-penny. Even at this distance is visible the black-and-white gable
-of the farmhouse that was once the home of Richard Baxter, author
-of “The Saints’ Everlasting Rest,” and an amazing number of other
-books--enough, said Judge Jeffreys, “to load a cart.” Dr. Johnson,
-however, pronounced them to be “all good.” Here, we learn, Baxter
-“passed away his Childhood and Youth, which upon Reflection he,
-according to the Wise Man’s Censure, found to be vanity.” In spite of
-these austere views, however, his childhood was not without its wild
-oats, for we are told that he “joyn’d sometimes with other Naughty Boys
-in Robbing his Neighbours’ Orchards of their Fruit, when he had eno’ at
-home ... and was bewitched with a love of Romances and Idle Tales.”
-
-Presently, after passing through the pretty village of
-Leighton-under-the-Wrekin, we see Buildwas, the Shelter near the Water,
-on the further side of the river. Perhaps this is the most striking
-view of the fourteen massive pillars of this roofless nave, in which
-the Cistercians of the twelfth century austerely worshipped; but we
-can visit the ruins if we wish to do so by crossing the bridge that has
-quite recently superseded one built by Telford. There is not very much
-more to be seen at close quarters than from here: the great charm of
-Buildwas lies in its effect as a whole, in its simplicity and strength,
-and in its position by the river.
-
-[Illustration: BUILDWAS ABBEY.
-
-_Photo by W. D. Haydon._]
-
-[Illustration: MADELEY COURT.]
-
-About a mile beyond Buildwas is Ironbridge, named from the first bridge
-ever built in England of iron, which here spans the Severn at a height
-of forty feet, by a single arch of a hundred feet in width. It was the
-work of Abraham Darby, the third of his name, and was finished in 1779.
-A gradient of 1 in 10 takes us through Ironbridge, and less than two
-miles further on is Madeley, which appears at first sight the very type
-of all that is unromantic, a prey to coal-dust and miners; yet if we
-turn off the main road to the left we shall presently find, hidden in
-a hollow near Madeley Court Station, as poetic a spot as we shall see
-in many a day’s journey. Perhaps its very contrast to its surroundings
-adds to its charm; perhaps to some it may not seem charming at all,
-but merely a tumble-down, ill-kept house. But to others this little
-nook, with the weather-stained, crumbling walls and tiled gables of
-the Court House, the swinging ivy, the still pond, the bulrushes and
-water-lilies, and the red-and-black timbered barn that once sheltered a
-fugitive king, are a “faery land forlorn,” the very home of glamour and
-romance. Here Charles II. arrived one night, dressed in green breeches
-and a noggen shirt. He was tired and hungry, his hands and face were
-smudged with soot, and he answered to the name of William Jones. He
-was refreshed in this house, and spent the next day in the barn with
-Richard Penderel, one of the five brothers to whom he owed his safety.
-When night fell he walked to Boscobel.
-
-It was hours before he was there, whereas we, if we were as much
-hurried as he was, might be there in half an hour or so. But though
-there is nothing to keep us at Shifnal we must pause at Tong, where
-there are some especially pretty timbered cottages and a church that
-is really remarkable, for it contains a collection of tombs which I
-should imagine to be unequalled in a village church. They are those of
-the Vernon family, and among them is that of Dame Margaret Stanley,
-the sister of Dorothy Vernon, of Haddon Hall. Charles Dickens said
-himself that it was of Tong Village he was thinking when he wrote the
-end of “The Old Curiosity Shop,” and those to whom Little Nell appeals
-may think of her and her grandfather in the porch of this church. Some
-of us, however, will take more interest in the shot-marks that have
-scarred the northern wall ever since the days of the Civil War.
-
-In a park near the village stands the astonishing structure called Tong
-Castle. It was once a real castle of stone; in the sixteenth century
-Sir Henry Vernon rebuilt it of brick; in the eighteenth a new owner
-thought that Moorish cupolas would make a pretty finish to it. When, in
-1643, it was in the possession of the Parliamentarians, it was said on
-that account to be a “great eye-sore to his Majesty’s good subjects
-who pass’d yt road.” For other reasons it is so still.
-
-A writer of the seventeenth century describes Boscobel as “a very
-obscure habitation, situate in a kind of wilderness”; and no doubt it
-was to this obscurity that Charles II. owed his safety. Even to-day
-it is wonderfully isolated, and we reach it by a series of rather
-circuitous by-roads; but we can drive right up to the house, and leave
-our car in a safe enclosure, while we walk a hundred yards to the
-Royal Oak--not the original “asylum of the most potent prince King
-Charles II. ... the oak beloved by Jove,”[1] which was mostly made into
-snuff-boxes and other treasures for the loyal--but an oak grown from
-an acorn of that “fortunate tree.” When Charles reached Boscobel at
-three o’clock in the morning he was taken into the big panelled room
-that we shall presently see, and was refreshed with bread and cheese
-and a posset of milk and beer. Colonel Carlis, another fugitive from
-Worcester, “pulled off his Majesty’s shoos, which were full of gravel,
-and stockens which were very wet,” and at daybreak went with him into
-the wood, where they both climbed into the oak--here, where we are
-standing--with a cushion for his Majesty to sit on. Here, for a great
-part of the day, the tired King slept with his head on Colonel Carlis’s
-knee. “He bore all these hardships and afflictions with incomparable
-patience,” says a contemporary historian. At night he was hidden in the
-house, buried beneath the garret floor in a box-like priest’s-hole,
-with a load of cheese on the lid. We may climb the stairs and see it;
-get into it if we will--and ask ourselves if, after spending a night in
-it, we should be as lighthearted as this man who at any moment might
-lose his life and had already lost everything else. In the morning
-he called for a frying-pan and butter, and, having first despatched
-Colonel Carlis with a dagger to slaughter a neighbour’s sheep, he gaily
-cooked himself some mutton collops, while the Colonel, “being but
-under-cook (and that honour enough too), made the fire and turned the
-collops in the pan.”
-
-From Boscobel we strike due north to Ivetsey Bank, where we shall
-find an inn capable of providing a good, if homely, luncheon or
-tea. Thence sixteen miles on Watling Street will bring us without a
-pause (_unberufen!_) through Wellington to the point where we left
-the main road on our outward journey. It is worth while, by the way,
-to avoid the unpleasant bit of road through Oakengates by striking
-across to the main road from Shifnal; to do which we must take a turn
-in St. George’s, where a lamp-post stands out prominently. We enter
-Shrewsbury, as we left it, by the London Road.
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-A slightly longer run, covering about fifty miles altogether, will show
-us something of the northern part of the county on its western side. We
-drive out of the town past the station and through the squalid suburb
-of Ditherington, where, for love of our springs and of humanity, we
-must perforce drive slowly, by reason of the bumpiness of the surface
-and the phenomenal number of children. Over this ground rode Henry IV.
-and Prince Hal to the Battle of Shrewsbury, and there on our right is
-Haughmond Hill, the “busky hill” to which Shakespeare refers. Presently
-there appears on the left, a few hundred yards away from the road, the
-church of Battlefield, raised, with the exception of the tower, quite
-soon after the battle on the spot where the fight raged most fiercely,
-in order that masses might be sung perpetually “for the prosperity of
-the King and the souls of the slain.” Here Harry Hotspur died, and
-with him thousands of others both gentle and simple, for this was a
-very notable fight and many interests were concerned in it. Beneath
-the mounds that we see on the south side of the church are the bones
-of many of the slain. The King “had many marching in his coats,” as
-Hotspur puts it in “Henry IV.,” and as they were killed in mistake for
-him he saved himself by a device more ingenious than kingly.
-
-There is nothing of special note between Battlefield and Hawkestone,
-which is about twelve miles from Shrewsbury, and is a private park,
-open to visitors. In the rhododendron season it is well worth while to
-leave one’s car at the extremely nice hotel at the outskirts of the
-park, and to walk about a mile through pretty grounds swarming with
-black rabbits, to see the blaze of blossom for which Hawkestone is
-famous. And yet I think they will fare still better who choose the time
-of bluebells. These should drive through the park by the public road.
-Beyond the gate, where the stream is close to them on the right and
-woods slope to its edge, they will see, bright in the near foreground
-but fading away into the distance under the trees in a misty cloud,
-a soft, ethereal veil of grey-blue. Here and there the green breaks
-through, and the flowers look like wisps of smoke trailing across the
-grass. This wonderful sheet of mystic blue borders the river and the
-road for some way, till the wood ends suddenly, and Hodnet Hall comes
-in sight.
-
-One really grows a little tired of recording the picturesqueness of
-Shropshire villages. They are nearly all pretty: for the houses,
-when they are not of timber and plaster, are often built of the warm
-red sandstone that is the stone of the county and acquires such soft,
-mellow colours in its old age. But I sometimes think Hodnet is the
-prettiest village of them all. Half the houses are black-and-white; and
-near the church gate a group of timber gables, with the octagonal tower
-in the background, forms a complete and perfectly composed picture.
-Bishop Reginald Heber, the author of “From Greenland’s icy mountains,”
-was rector of Hodnet for some years before he sailed for “India’s coral
-strand.”
-
-From Hodnet we may either drive back to Shrewsbury or turn to the left
-in the middle of the village and take a run of about thirty-four miles
-by Market Drayton and Newport, two picturesque old towns with a good
-road between them. The scenery in this part of the county is pleasing,
-but not especially striking. If we choose this way we shall, as we
-draw near Shrewsbury, pass the ruins of Haughmond, one of the great
-Shropshire abbeys.
-
-Long ago there was a hermitage at the foot of this “busky hill”; before
-William FitzAlan’s monastery for Austin Canons rose here, with the
-great church that has practically disappeared,[2] and the tall gable
-with the turrets that are so conspicuous to-day, and the chapter-house
-with the beautiful doorway. This Abbey was greatly patronised by
-royalty. Stephen gave it a mill, Matilda gave it lands “for the
-remission of her sins,” Henry II. gave churches, and Henry III. more
-land, and Llewelyn of Wales “a moiety of Kenwicke.” The list of other
-benefactions is endless: mills and fisheries, churches and markets,
-woods and hogs and herds. Many were the “privileges of flesh and fish”
-enjoyed by the canons of Haughmond; and Abbot Nicholas, in Edward
-III.’s time, desiring to make the most of all these luxuries, built
-a new kitchen for the brethren and “appointed them a cook to dress
-their food.” It was in 1541 that Henry VIII., as his manner was, took
-possession of Haughmond and all its riches, “beyng mynded to take the
-same into his own handes for a better purpose”; and so the minster,
-for which he had no use, gradually vanished. Nothing is left of it but
-a fragment of wall and a doorway. Two tombs that were once within the
-chancel now lie open to the sky on the hillside, where their appeal for
-the prayers of the passers-by is of far more pathetic force than it
-ever was under the shelter of the Abbey’s roof:--
-
-    “_Vous Ki Passez Par Ici Priez Pur L’Alme Johan Fitz Aleine Ki Git
-    Ici. Deu De Sa Alme Eit Merci. Amen._”
-
-    “_Isabel De Mortimer Sa Femme Acost De Li. Deu De Lur Alme Eit
-    Merci. Amen._”
-
-[Illustration: HAUGHMOND ABBEY.]
-
-From this road near Haughmond we have perhaps the loveliest view of
-distant Shrewsbury. The pale hills rim the horizon, the river winds in
-the foreground, and between them rise the clear outlines of the two
-incomparable spires that crown The Delight.
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-Another of the Shropshire monasteries that must certainly be seen is
-Wenlock Priory, which lies on the way to Bridgnorth. It is a fairly
-level road that leads to it by Cross Houses and Cound and pretty
-Cressage, which in Domesday Book is Cristes-ache, or Christ’s Oak.
-Christianity was preached here, it is said, under an old oak-tree, in
-days so early that when St. Augustine visited the place he found it
-already Christian. Between Harley and Wenlock there is a hill which the
-Contour Book describes with perfect accuracy as “a precipitous hill on
-which innumerable accidents have happened.” The accidents, I fancy,
-have mostly happened to horse-drawn vehicles and bicycles--especially
-the latter--when descending the hill, for it is a mile long and has a
-turn in the middle. There is no reason why it should inconvenience a
-good car, for the average gradient is nothing more alarming than 1 in
-8, and it is well worth climbing for the sake of the wide view from the
-top, just beyond which Much Wenlock lies.
-
-[Illustration: WENLOCK PRIORY, ST. JOHN’S CHAPEL.
-
-_Photo by W. D. Haydon._]
-
-Milburga, Saxon princess and saint, built the first religious house
-at Wenlock, and became its abbess, and was finally buried within its
-precincts. William of Malmesbury tells us how, long after her death,
-she enriched the place to which she had given her life and all she
-possessed. “Milburga,” he says, “reposes at Wenlock ... but for
-some time after the arrival of the Normans, through ignorance of the
-place of her burial, she was neglected. Lately, however, a convent
-of Clugniac monks being established there, while a new church was
-erecting, a certain boy, running violently along the pavement, broke
-into the hollow of the vault, and discovered the body of the virgin,
-when a balsamic odour pervading the whole church, she was taken up, and
-performed so many miracles that the people flocked thither in great
-multitudes. Large spreading plains could hardly contain the troops
-of pilgrims, while rich and poor came side by side, one common faith
-compelling all.”
-
-The convent of Clugniac monks in question was built by that notable
-man Roger de Montgomery, and was the same whose ruins speak so plainly
-to-day of the ornate tastes of the monks of Clugny. We saw no arcaded
-walls such as these of the chapter-house, nor richly moulded doorways,
-nor any such elaborate ornament at Cistercian Buildwas, whose lands
-marched with the lands of this Priory, and whose monks found the
-Rule of Clugny too soft, the tastes of Clugny too enervating. Go to
-Wenlock in the spring, when its slender columns rise above a sea of
-sweet-scented flowers, and its old wall is bright with rock-plants--for
-the Priory stands in private grounds and is cared for like a garden.
-It is the third religious house that has stood on this spot, for
-between the days of Milburga, the royal saint, and those of Roger and
-his Clugniacs, there was another monastery founded here by Leofric
-of Mercia and his wife Godiva, a well-loved woman whom we are glad
-to connect with this beautiful spot. The picturesque old Prior’s
-Lodge is inhabited, and it is only on Tuesdays and Fridays that the
-world at large is admitted to the ruins. Perhaps nothing recalls to
-one so vividly the daily life of the monks in this place as the long
-causeway that stretches across the field near the Priory garden. It
-was here that the brothers took their daily exercise, raised above the
-surrounding marsh--a long procession of dark figures, walking slowly to
-and fro--and among them, unsuspected, that interesting swashbuckler of
-whom we long to hear more, that man of extremes whose strange career
-is all summed up for us in one short, pregnant sentence. “In 1283,” we
-learn, “a brother of Wenlac became a captain of banditti.” We hear no
-more of him, alas! except that he was hanged.
-
-The road to Bridgnorth is a continuation of the one by which we entered
-the town, so we must drive back, past the beautiful old Guildhall and
-market-place, up the street to the Gaskell Arms, where we may have
-luncheon if, as may well occur to motorists, we are too hungry to wait
-till we reach the more imposing “Crown” at Bridgnorth. At the Gaskell
-Arms we turn sharply to the left, and thence eight or nine miles of
-good road, with several steep hills, will bring us to Bridgnorth.
-
-[Illustration: WENLOCK PRIORY, CHAPTER HOUSE.
-
-_Photo by W. D. Haydon_.]
-
-[Illustration: BISHOP PERCY’S BIRTHPLACE, BRIDGNORTH.]
-
-Ever since the Danes built a fort here this town, nearly as consistently
-as Shrewsbury and Ludlow, has concerned itself with history. It has
-been visited by half the kings of England. Henry I. besieged it; Henry
-II. defended it; John and Edward I. stayed in it; Edward II. took
-refuge in it; Henry IV. gathered his army here on his way to the
-Battle of Shrewsbury; Charles I. was besieged here by Cromwell, who
-narrowly escaped death before the walls. The Castle, of course, was the
-centre of interest on all these occasions--the Castle that was built
-so hurriedly by Robert de Belesme, Roger de Montgomery’s son, and is
-now so conspicuous on account of its leaning tower. Round its ruins
-is a path that must be practically the same as that which Charles I.
-declared to be as pleasant a walk as any in his kingdom. Robert de
-Belesme, who has been described with apparent justice as “an implacable
-villain,” also founded the church of St. Mary Magdalene, but the
-present building was designed by Telford. Another interesting church
-is St. Leonard’s, where in the churchyard the Roundheads once beat the
-Royalists in a skirmish, and where Richard Baxter was a curate. He
-lived in the little black-and-white cottage close at hand, and seems
-to have had a poor opinion of his flock. “He found the people here
-generally ignorant and dead-hearted,” he says, “... so that though by
-his first Labours among them he was Instrumental in the Conversion
-of several Persons, and was generally Applauded, yet ... Tippling and
-Ill Company rendred his Preaching ineffectual.” If his preaching was
-ineffectual it at all events began early, for “when he was a little
-Boy in Coats, if he heard other Children in Play speak Profane Words
-he would reprove them, to the wonder of those that heard him.” At this
-time--when he was a little Boy in Coats--he lived at Rowton in this
-county; it was not till he was ten years old that he moved to Eaton
-Constantine and indulged in dark deeds in his neighbours’ orchards.
-
-An extremely steep dip with an awkward corner in the middle of it will
-take us to the birthplace of another famous divine, Bishop Percy, best
-known in connection with “Percy’s Reliques.” The house, which stands
-in the Cartway, may be approached quite comfortably from below, and is
-worth seeing for its own sake, being a good example of black-and-white
-work.
-
-Our best way home from here is by Ironbridge and Buildwas, on the road
-by which we drove to Boscobel. Between Bridgnorth and Ironbridge some
-of the country is pretty, and at Broseley especially it must have been
-lovely in its natural state, before it was ruined by the potteries. We
-cross the river by Abraham Darby’s iron bridge.
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-A run of forty-seven miles or so, by Wem, Whitchurch, and Ellesmere,
-will show us a good deal of the north-west part of the county, and
-if, when we reach Whitchurch, we choose to lengthen the distance to
-fifty-four miles by slipping over the Welsh border to Overton and
-Erbistock, we shall not regret it.
-
-We leave Shrewsbury by the road that branches to the left immediately
-opposite to the station. Almost at once, at the point where the road
-touches the Severn, we pass a long, low house of timber and plaster
-on our right. It was from this house that Admiral Benbow ran away to
-sea. He was living here as an apprentice, to his father or another,
-and, since it was the custom to entrust the house-key to the care of
-the apprentice, he had, fortunately for himself and England, special
-facilities for making his escape. He hid the key in the tree that is
-marked with a ring of whitewash, and stands between the house and the
-railings; and there to this day it hangs.
-
-Between Shrewsbury and Whitchurch there is nothing of particular
-interest except the old farmhouse called Albright Hussey, which stands
-in a field on the right about three miles out of Shrewsbury. It is
-a pretty old moated house, partly black-and-white; but its greatest
-beauty is within, where there is as charming a room as one need wish
-to see, a room to make a housewife weep tears of covetousness--low,
-oblong, oak-panelled to the ceiling, with seats in the mullioned
-windows and a carved fireplace. The house is inhabited, but I
-believe there is never any difficulty in obtaining leave to see
-it. Its sixteenth-century walls were once threatened by a party of
-Parliamentarian horse. There were only eight men to defend the place,
-but their leader was a crafty man, and shouted his orders aloud within
-hearing of the enemy. “Let ten men stay here, and ten go there, and
-twenty stay with me!” he cried; and the attacking force, dismayed by
-the number of mythical defenders, rode away and left the stone and
-timber, the mullioned windows and oaken wainscotes, to be a joy to us
-to-day.
-
-In Wem, however, through which we presently pass, it was the
-“Parliament men” who were in the ascendent. The place acted a prominent
-part in the Civil War, and has a history many centuries long, but on
-the surface is commonplace enough. In the List of the Owners of the
-Manor of Wem the twenty-fourth name is the grim one of “Sir George
-Jeffreys, Knight and Baronet, and Lord Chief Justice of the King’s
-Bench, created in 1685 a peer of England by the style and title of
-Baron Jeffreys of Wem.”
-
-At Whitchurch we must draw up at the door of St. Alkmund’s Church;
-not because it is old or beautiful, for the original church fell down
-in 1711 and was entirely rebuilt; nor because Dean Swift subscribed
-to the rebuilding of it; but because it contains the dust of the
-great Talbot, first Earl of Shrewsbury, “the scourge of France.” His
-valiant heart lies beneath the white stone in the porch, where careless
-thousands have trodden it underfoot. It was found there in an urn when
-the church was rebuilt, and with it were some figures of Christ and
-the Virgin Mary from Talbot’s rosary. His bones are in the chancel,
-whither, about fifty years after his death, they were brought from the
-battlefield of Chastillon, where a little chapel had been raised on
-the spot where he fell.[3] His effigy lies on a tomb that is an exact
-copy of the original one. While this restoration was in progress the
-bones of the great soldier were shown to the public, with the skull
-cleft by the axe that killed him. “This is that terrible Talbot,” says
-Thomas Fuller, “so famous for his sword ... which constantly conquered
-where it came, insomuch that the bare fame of his approach frighted the
-French from the siege of Bordeaux. Being victorious for twenty-four
-years together, success failed him at last.... Henceforward we may say
-‘Good-night to the English in France,’ whose victories were buried with
-the body of this earl.”
-
-From Whitchurch we drive about fourteen miles in a westerly direction
-to Overton Bridge, by Hanmer and Overton village, a pretty little
-place with a churchyard surrounded by yew-trees. Having crossed the
-bridge, which is about two miles beyond the village, we turn to the
-left at right angles and approach Erbistock by a road whose greatest
-recommendation to inveterate lovers of speed will be that it is short.
-After one experience, however, most of us will agree, I think, that
-this by-road needs no recommendation but the fact that it leads to
-Erbistock. A tiny church and a tiny inn at the brim of the Dee--that is
-all that there is at Erbistock. But it is all enclosed in trees, and
-the trees dip into the river, and the river is rather big and gentle
-and gurgles sweetly at one’s feet, and the woods on the other side are
-tangled and mysterious and full of fairies. One may have one’s tea
-close beside the water, or one may cross the river in a ferry, and soon
-be quite alone in the woods. There is no need to hurry, for when we
-leave Erbistock we need not stop again till we reach Shrewsbury.
-
-For Ellesmere, “wher was a castelle,” says Leland, “and very fair polis
-yet be,” has now nothing left of its castle but the memory of it, and
-the fair pools may be seen as we pass. More than once Ellesmere was
-given as a dowry to the daughters of English kings, on their marriage
-with Cymric princes; for as the rulers of the two countries were sure
-to fall out soon after the wedding the gift was quickly taken back by
-the donor, and so was ready for the next bride. Thus, though Henry II.
-gave it to his sister Emma, there was nothing to prevent King John from
-giving it to his daughter Joan, twenty-seven years later, when she
-married Llewelyn the Great.
-
-I think it must have been beside the lake, where on the level ground
-there would be room for the dramatic scene, that Rupert, halting here
-at Ellesmere, made his prisoners cast lots upon the drum to decide
-which of them should die. Thirteen were doomed; but at the last
-moment one of them was saved by Sir Vincent Corbet, who as he rode
-past interceded for the man, who had been a servant in his family.
-The rest were hanged there and then. Yet it is not they who haunt the
-rushy banks of the mere; but the White Lady of Oteley. Long ago, it is
-said, she robbed and ruined a monastery, and built herself a home here
-with the spoils--a home that she has never left since then, except to
-walk by night along the margin of the water. She was not even allowed
-to move to the new house when it was built about a hundred years ago,
-for a fragment of the old one was left standing in the park on purpose
-for her accommodation. The new house faces us very conspicuously as we
-drive close beside the water on the opposite side of the mere, and go
-on our way to Shrewsbury, which is about sixteen miles away.
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-In the south-west, which is the hilliest, and therefore the prettiest,
-part of Shropshire, there is a variety of little runs, which may
-be lengthened or shortened according to circumstances and tastes. A
-pretty round of about fifty miles is by Chirbury and Bishop’s Castle,
-whence either of two lovely roads will bring us back to Shrewsbury.
-Nineteen miles of nearly level road lead to Chirbury through several
-villages--Westbury, Worthen, Marton, and others--all of which are
-fairly picturesque, but with nothing very noteworthy about them. Just
-before Marton is reached there is an exceedingly sharp turn, which
-should be borne in mind. At Chirbury our road turns to the left in the
-middle of the village.
-
-The name of this obscure little place has been known to the world for
-some centuries in connection with that strange person Lord Herbert of
-Chirbury, half ruffler, half scholar, who in a house only a few miles
-from here, across the Welsh border, wrote the famous autobiography
-that Horace Walpole called “perhaps the most extraordinary account
-that was ever given seriously by a wise man of himself.” His home for
-the greater part of his life, when he was not seeking adventures and
-duels in France or London, was in Montgomery Castle, whose ruins we
-may see by driving four miles further. Nothing but a fragment is left
-of it now, but when the Herberts lived there it must have been a fine
-sight on its wild crag; a more fitting home for Edward the soldier than
-for his gentler and still more famous brother George. Chirbury itself
-had a castle and a priory once; but of the castle, which was built
-by the ever active Ethelfleda, nothing remains but the site; and of
-the monastery there are only fragments left, for the present church,
-ancient as it is, was not used by the monks, but was then, as now, the
-parish church.[4] It has seen strange doings. It is hard to realise,
-when the bells ring in this lonely little village, and the quiet
-country folk take their seats for the morning service, that here within
-these very walls the congregation of Chirbury was once electrified by
-the clashing of armour and the clatter of horses’ hoofs in the aisle.
-It was during the Civil War, and Mr. Edward Lewis, “a very goodly man,
-did preach twice a day”; a rash thing for a Puritan to do when Captain
-Corbet was no further off than Caus Castle. A party of Royalist horse
-“rode into the church to the great fright and amazement of the people;
-and with their pistols charged and cocked went up into the pulpit and
-pulled down Mr. Lewis, pulling and tugging him in a most unworthy
-manner ... and so left the people without their pastor because they
-would not be content with one sermon a day.”
-
-It was this same Edward Lewis who brought to Chirbury the chained
-library that almost certainly belonged to George Herbert; for Isaac
-Walton tells us of “a choice library which Mr. Herbert had fastened
-with chains in a fit room in Montgomery Castle.” This choice library
-contains books dating from 1530 to 1684, and among them is a
-black-letter folio copy of Chaucer. They are kept in the vicarage, and
-I believe may be seen by any one.
-
-Turning to the left in Chirbury we soon pass Marrington Hall, or
-_Havodwen_, the White Summer-house, as the Welsh call it; a very fine
-example of sixteenth-century black-and-white work. The lovely little
-valley beyond it is Marrington Dingle, and a mile or two further on
-is Churchstoke. It is in this pretty part of Shropshire that the uses
-of the motor-car are especially noticeable, for railway stations are
-few and distant from each other, and the hilliness of the country is
-not encouraging to bicyclists. Of Bishop’s Castle there is little to
-be said, for pretty as the country is all round it, the town itself
-is unattractive, and the castle is no more. But all the ways back to
-Shrewsbury from here are lovely. We may join the Stretton road, which
-we already know, at Marshbrook, and so see one of the most charming
-little bits of wooded country in Shropshire; or we may follow the hilly
-road through the wild scenery near Ratlinghope, down Cothercott Hill,
-and through Longden and Hookagate. Cothercott Hill is very steep and
-has a bad surface, but it is only for a short way that the gradient is
-really severe, and the view from the top is one of the wildest in the
-country. Personally, however, I should recommend the third way back to
-Shrewsbury--over the moor to the Roman Gravels, and down through the
-woods of the winding Hope Valley to Minsterley.
-
-As there is nothing in the whole of this little run to delay us, we may
-lengthen it, if our car is good on hills and we are of an enterprising
-temperament, by going on from Bishop’s Castle to Clun, or even to
-Knighton, and round by Leintwardine to join the Ludlow road. This is
-a beautiful bit of country, and full of interest. Leland tells us
-of the “faire forest of Clun.” “Cumming from Bisshop’s Castelle to
-Clunne lordshippe,” he says, “cummeth doune a greate woode grouing
-on a hille.” Much of this great wood is gone now, but there is still
-enough to make the country very “faire,” and to compensate a motorist
-for the climbing of a long hill. Suddenly, as we round a corner, Clun
-comes into sight between two hills, with the stern tower of its castle
-standing conspicuously above the river. “Clunne Castell,” says Leland,
-“longynge to the Erle of Arundel, sumewhat ruinus. It hath bene bothe
-stronge and well builded.” It is more than somewhat ruinous now, which
-is hardly surprising when one considers all it has gone through at
-the hands of Welshmen and Roundheads since it was built in Stephen’s
-reign. There is a story that the stones of which it is made were passed
-from hand to hand by a chain of men, from the quarry, a mile away, to
-the river-bank where the castle stands; but be that as it may, these
-crumbling stones, with their soft tints of grey and yellow, embody
-enough romance to satisfy us, I think, seeing that they are connected
-with all the greatest names of Wales. They have been stormed and
-burnt by Rhys of the south; they have been attacked in vain by great
-Llewelyn of the north; they have been overcome by Owen Glyndwr. They
-are connected with modern romance, too, for it is supposed that the
-“Garde Dolareuse,” in the “Betrothed,” represents the Castle of Clun,
-and the Buffalo Inn claims to have sheltered Sir Walter Scott while he
-was writing part of the book.
-
-Everything is old at Clun: the church; the fine old bridge, of whose
-building there is no record; and the “Hospital of the Holy and
-Undivided Trinity at Clunn,” which was founded by the Duke of Norfolk
-in 1614 for distressed tradesmen, who were each to receive yearly “a
-gown ready-made of strong cloth or kersey, of a sad colour.”
-
-The road between Clun and Knighton is not one to be undertaken lightly
-by small cars of uncertain hill-climbing powers, for it is mostly
-composed of long and precipitous hills, with gradients varying from 1
-in 8 to 1 in 10; but the surface is good, and though the scenery is not
-particularly interesting at first, it becomes really lovely as we draw
-near Knighton, which lies in a valley, surrounded by wooded hills. Here
-we turn to the left, and by way of compensation the road from Knighton
-to Leintwardine is particularly level, along a narrow valley between
-green hills that belong to Shropshire on the left and to Herefordshire
-on the right. As the valley widens out into open country we reach
-Brampton Brian, associated for ever with the name of Brilliana, Lady
-Harley. That gallant-hearted lady was alone in her husband’s castle of
-Brampton when it was threatened by the forces of Charles I., for the
-Harleys were “Parliament men.” “I acknowleg,” she writes, “I doe not
-thinke meself safe wheare I am.” Safe she certainly was not, but she
-thanked God that she was “not afraide”; and when the Royalists bade
-her surrender she simply answered, “I must endeavour to keep what is
-mine as well as I can, in which I have the law of nature, of reason,
-and of the law on my side, and you none to take it from me.” The siege
-lasted some weeks, and Lady Harley, always delicate, suffered greatly;
-but when pressed to yield said “she would rather choose an honourable
-death.” She died; but this first siege was raised before her “heavenly
-and happy end,” and so she never knew that the castle was besieged
-again, was surrendered, and burnt to the ground.[5]
-
-A few miles further on is Leintwardine, which I believe to be full of
-antiquarian interest, and know to be picturesque as an artist’s dream;
-and here, if we care to face a narrow byway with a rough surface, we
-may leave the main road and take the more direct route to Craven Arms
-by way of Clungunford. At Craven Arms we rejoin the road from Ludlow to
-Shrewsbury.
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-Of the many main roads that converge in Shrewsbury I have left to the
-last the one that is in some ways the most important, the one that
-is certainly the most famous; that road of great memories and great
-achievement, by which so many Royal Mails have travelled breathlessly
-at the dashing pace of eleven miles an hour, and by which we may travel
-to-day at a pace that nothing shall induce me to betray: Telford’s road
-to Holyhead. It is the road by which, if we are fortunate, we are going
-into North Wales. If, however, it is our sad fate to turn our backs on
-that most beautiful land, we must on no account neglect to run over to
-Llangollen, a distance of thirty miles: for though I have left it to
-the last on the assumption that we are going on to Wales, it is one of
-the most enjoyable drives in this neighbourhood.
-
-We leave Shrewsbury by the Welsh Bridge, the scene of Henry VII.’s
-remarkable entry into the town over the body of the stout, wise
-bailiff; and as we reach the top of the hill beyond it we pass on the
-right the house in which Charles Darwin was born. At the corner where
-the Holyhead road turns sharply to the right, about half a mile beyond
-the last houses of the town, there stands in a private garden a famous
-tree known as the Shelton Oak. I mention it merely because its fame
-rests on a libel. There are those who will tell you--cheerfully taking
-a great man’s name in vain--that Owen Glyndwr sat in this tree watching
-the Battle of Shrewsbury when he should have been taking part in it.
-Our knowledge of this fiery prince’s characteristics might be enough,
-one would think, to discredit the tale, without the proved fact that he
-was extremely occupied in South Wales at the time! But still the tale
-is told.
-
-Soon, at Montford Bridge, we cross the Severn, white with water-weeds
-in the summer, and fringed with purple wild-flowers, and then, with
-what speed we may, spin happily towards the Welsh hills. We can see
-them on our left; the striking outline of the Breidden, with Rodney’s
-Pillar on its topmost point, and beyond it a long blue range that
-limits all the western horizon. At one spot only we have a choice of
-roads. Telford’s road goes by Oswestry, an ancient town with an immense
-history but few relics; but if at the “Queen’s Head,” fourteen miles
-from Shrewsbury, we turn to the right, following the telegraph-posts,
-we shall cut off more than a mile of distance and shall see Whittington.
-
-There are some places that are peculiarly haunted. One is infinitely
-more conscious in them of the past than of the present. Such are Hay
-and Beaupré--both of which we shall see later on. But Whittington
-is not so much haunted as haunting. Hay and Beaupré are enchanted:
-Whittington is itself the enchantment. It stands in a clump of trees
-by the wayside, in the middle of the village, and one comes upon it
-suddenly: a great fortified gateway of pale grey stone, reflected in
-the weed-grown water of what was once its moat--and leading nowhere.
-One thinks, not of its history, but of itself. One cannot believe that
-it is merely the entrance to a vanished mediæval castle; it is rather
-the Gate of Dreams, through which every man sometimes passes in search
-of his heart’s desire.
-
-There is an old Norman-French romance that tells us how the White
-Tower was built by William Peverel of the Peak, and how he promised
-it as a dowry to Melette, the fairest of his nieces. “But none found
-favour with her. And William reasoned with her, and besought her that
-she would discover unto him if there was in the world any knight whom
-she would take for lord.... ‘Certes, Sire,’ said she, ‘no knight is
-there in all the world that I would take for the sake of riches and the
-honour of lands, but if I ever take such an one he shall be handsome,
-and courteous, and the most valiant of his order in Christendom.’” So
-William proclaimed a tourney at the Peak, with Melette and the White
-Tower for the prize; and among those who came to try their fortune was
-one Guarin de Metz, well clad in red samite, with a crest of gold. “To
-record the blows and the issues I am not minded,” says the story, “but
-Guarin de Metz and his company proved that day the best, the fairest,
-and the most valiant, and above all, Guarin was the most praised in all
-ways.” So Guarin won the fastidious Melette of the White Tower, “and
-with great joy did he take her, and the damsel him.”[6]
-
-This romance is not very reliable history, I fear, but it is true that
-Whittington belonged at one time to the Peverels, and later to the
-Fitz-Warines or Guarins, of whom it was probably the third who built
-this gate in the reign of John.
-
-Two miles beyond Whittington is Gobowen, where we rejoin the main road;
-and soon afterwards we dip into the narrow valley below Chirk, and with
-the railway and the canal high above us on the left, cross the little
-Ceiriog into Wales.
-
-[Illustration: WHITTINGTON CASTLE.]
-
-[Illustration: THE LLEDR VALLEY, FROM THE HOLYHEAD ROAD.]
-
-
-
-
-A TOUR IN NORTH WALES
-
-
-Here, on the very border of Wales, one is conscious of the Celtic
-atmosphere. We left the quiet orderliness of England behind us when
-we dipped down into this little valley, where the sparkling, bubbling
-Ceiriog--every inch a Celt--calls to us to follow it up into the hills.
-And so we will, as soon as we have climbed the other side of the valley
-into Chirk village; turning there to the left, though our rightful
-road, the road to Llangollen, lies directly in front of us. In Wales we
-shall find ourselves constantly tempted to leave the highway, and in
-most cases we shall be rewarded if we yield to the temptation without
-ado. In this particular case we shall be rewarded with a dear little
-glen, feathery birch-trees on the steep slopes, a yellow carpet in
-primrose time, and a most charming little hotel about six miles up the
-valley, at Glyn Ceiriog.
-
-Near Chirk the road sweeps round under the trees of the deer-park,
-where “there is on a smaul hille a mighty large and stronge castel
-with dyvers towers”; towers that have stood here for many generations,
-defying time and war; for this castle of Chirk is no ruin like most of
-its contemporaries, but an inhabited house. Yet not these towers, I
-believe, but the old Welsh Castell Crogen, stood here when Henry II.,
-with “the chosen warriors of England,” and of several other countries,
-marched up this valley to join battle with the great Owen Gwynedd and
-all the might of Wales, who were encamped near Corwen. The English,
-finding the trees in their way, cut them down as they advanced, which
-so much infuriated some of the Welsh who were separated from their
-main army, that the Ceiriog ran red with the blood of Henry’s chosen
-warriors. This Battle of Crogen took place just below the older castle.
-
-Perhaps the most dramatic event in the life of the present Chirk
-Castle was when it fell into the hands of the cavaliers, and its owner,
-Sir Thomas Myddleton, a Parliamentary leader, was obliged to besiege
-his own house in his own person. I believe that on one day of the week
-the world at large is allowed to pass through the beautiful gates of
-wrought iron, and up the long slope of the avenue, and into the castle
-itself, to see all the treasures of art and history that George Borrow
-saw when he was here: the cabinet of Charles II., and the portraits of
-Nell Gwynne, and of “the very proud daughter of the house,” as Borrow
-calls Addison’s wife, “the Warwick Dowager who married the Spectator,
-and led him the life of a dog.”
-
-Across Chirk Park runs Offa’s Dyke, the long embankment “that was cast
-up with great labour and industry by Offa the Mercian, as a boundary
-between his Subjects and the Britains, from the mouth of Dee to that
-of the River Wye.... Concerning which Joannes Sarisburiensis in his
-‘Polycration’ saith that Harald establish’d a law that whatever
-Welshman should be found arm’d on this side the limit he had set up,
-then ... his right hand should be cut off by the King’s Officers.” It
-touches the high-road a few miles beyond Chirk, just before we begin
-the wonderful descent into the Vale of Llangollen; that long slope down
-which we swing for several miles on a perfect gradient and a perfect
-surface--marred, however, by an awkward turn--with the whole beautiful
-valley spread out before us, and the Dee sweeping far below us, spanned
-by the remarkable aqueduct called Pont-y-Cysylltau. Beyond it rise
-the Eglwyseg crags, and far away the shattered fortress of Dinas Bran
-is visible almost from the first on its peak above Llangollen. “The
-castelle of Dinas Brane,” says Leland, “was never a bigge thing, but
-sette al for strenght as in a place half inaccessible for enemyes.”
-Even in his day it was “al in ruine,” and now there is only a fragment
-left of it to remind us of those princes of ancient Powys who built
-it in days so old as to be unchronicled, and defied the power of the
-Saxon from within its walls; and of its owner in later days, Madoc ap
-Gryffyth Maelor, who built the Abbey of Valle Crucis; and of the fair
-Myfanwy, “all smiles and light,” who was loved by a poor bard of the
-fourteenth century, and celebrated by him in a poem that still exists.
-
-At the foot of the crag on which Dinas Bran is perched lies
-Llangollen--a little town that owes its charm entirely to its position.
-Only a few miles away, in Shropshire, an ugly house is an exception: in
-Wales it is unfortunately the rule. A town or village that is really
-pretty in itself, apart from its surroundings, is almost unknown. But
-so lovely is the position of Llangollen that in spite of its rather
-squalid streets it is an entrancing place; so entrancing that Robert
-Browning lived for some time at the Hand Hotel, and the two famous
-“Ladies of Llangollen,” Lady Eleanor Butler and Miss Ponsonby, chose
-it out of all the world for their life-long home. Llangollen is still
-dominated by “the Ladies,” almost as much as by Dinas Bran itself.
-They adorn the windows of all its photograph shops; they shine in
-crude colours from all its china mugs; and in its churchyard we learn
-from an extremely ugly tombstone that one of them, in the opinion of
-the other, had “manners worthy of her Illustrious Birth.” It must be
-admitted that such is not the impression given by the impartial. It
-became the fashion for travellers of mark to visit this quaint couple
-in their house up there on the hill, and they themselves insisted on
-its being also the fashion to give them presents--carvings, miniatures,
-curiosities of all kinds. If we care to climb a steep hill we may
-see the outside of Plas Newydd now, a black-and-white house, which
-must have been really pretty in its original simplicity, but is now
-overladen with a mass of carving. From the road we can see the porch
-in which “the Ladies” once stood “fussing and tottering about in an
-agony of expectation,” waiting for Sir Walter Scott, and looking, says
-Lockhart, “like a couple of hazy or crazy old sailors.” “Who could
-paint,” he goes on, “the prints, the dogs, the cats, the miniatures,
-the cram of cabinets, clocks, glass-cases, books, bijouterie,
-dragon-china, nodding mandarins, and whirligigs of every shape and
-hue--the whole house outside and in _covered_ with carved oak ... and
-the illustrated copies of Sir W.’s poems, and the joking, simpering
-compliments about Waverley.” But whether their manners were worthy of
-their Illustrious Birth or not, they were true friends to each other,
-and the guardian angels, as Lockhart admits, of Llangollen. It is an
-interesting fact (which should not be forgotten) that the church under
-whose shadow they lie is dedicated to St. Collen ap Gwynnawg ap Clydawg
-ap Cowrda ap Caradog Freichfras ap Llyr Merimap Eini Yrth ap Cunedda
-Wledig.
-
-Far more important than Plas Newydd or its memories of vanished
-mandarins and whirligigs is the work of that prince of Powys, whose
-name I mentioned in connection with Dinas Bran--Madoc ap Gryffyth
-Maelor. In Pant-y-Groes, or the Valley of the Cross, stands Madoc’s
-ruined abbey, the most perfect retreat, surely, that ever brought
-comfort to the sad or sinful. It was of the Vale of Llangollen that
-Ruskin characteristically wrote: “The whole valley, when once I got up
-past the Works (whatever the accursed business of them) seemed to me
-entirely lovely in its gentle wildness.” And it is this very quality
-of gentle wildness that gives such charm to the little Glen of the
-Cross, which joins the larger valley of the Dee just above Llangollen,
-and is reached by way of the old stone bridge that was the first of its
-kind in Wales.
-
-When, in a few minutes, we see the gable of Valle Crucis Abbey below
-us on the right, we leave our car by the roadside. We leave, indeed,
-the whole world behind us as we pass through the heavy door by which
-there was once no returning. The narrow wooded valley hems us in, the
-trees are close round us, the waters of the fishpond, in their absolute
-stillness, add to the sense of aloofness and peace. And under our very
-feet, perhaps, is the dust of Iolo Goch, the famous bard who sang of
-“Owain Glyndwr, the great, the good”; for Iolo’s unmarked grave is
-here; and here, too, lies Madoc, who built this abbey in the last year
-of the twelfth century; and Myfanwy, the beautiful princess, “fairer
-than the cherry’s bloom”; and others who died long, long before them.
-To antiquarians the tombs of Valle Crucis are full of interest, for
-there are some that seem to prove, says the custodian--himself an
-antiquarian--that this Cistercian house rose on the site of an older
-Benedictine building. The Cistercians never used warlike symbols,
-but always the sign of the Cross; yet here on two stones of very
-early date--the sixth or seventh century--are carved the sword, the
-spear, and the battleaxe. Fragments of stained glass, too, have been
-unearthed, and coloured tiles, though the Cistercian Rule forbade the
-use of colour in any form. This austere Order, however, while avoiding
-the use of the sword as a symbol, was apparently not averse to using
-it as a weapon on occasion, for it was by fighting the Benedictines in
-a neighbouring field, according to the custodian’s theory, that they
-became possessed of the site of their abbey. Truth to tell, the extreme
-austerity of the Cistercians seems to have relaxed in later days, for
-we hear after a time of four courses of meat in silver dishes at Valle
-Crucis, and of an abbot with three of his fingers covered with rings.
-But these are disturbing thoughts. Let us rather take away with us a
-picture of the quiet fishpond, with its water-weeds and clumps of
-yellow flags, and the gable of the church reflected in it line for
-line, and on the bank a hooded figure, dressed in white, with a placid
-face and a busy fishing-rod.
-
-Quite near the abbey in a field is a far older relic, Eliseg’s Pillar,
-the rough stone monument that gave its name to the Valley of the
-Cross, though as a matter of fact it was probably never a cross. It
-was once much higher than it is now, but in the days of the Civil War
-the name of the valley was enough to make it _suspect_, and the pillar
-was thrown down by the Puritans on the chance of its once having been
-a cross. It has been much discussed and disagreed about, but at all
-events its very great antiquity is a certainty, and the inscription
-that is now illegible was luckily copied several centuries ago.
-“Concenn,” it tells us, “the great grandson of Eliseg, erected this
-stone to the memory of his great-grandfather, Eliseg. This is that
-Eliseg who recovered his inheritance of Powis by his sword from the
-power of the Angles.”
-
-Returning to Llangollen we cross the Dee again and go on our way upon
-the road to Holyhead, up the ridge of Rhysgog, past Berwyn Station, and
-so out of the Vale of Llangollen into that of Edeyrnion. The Dee is
-still below us on the right, with thickly wooded hills beyond it; and
-on the left are rocky heights, sometimes bare and sometimes softened by
-trees. We have a lovely run before us down the valley, but if we are
-prudent we will _drive slowly in the neighbourhood of Corwen_.
-
-But here, at the head of the valley, we are eight miles away from
-Corwen, and have other things to think of--great things, indeed:
-the last struggle for Welsh freedom, and the man who was the heart
-and the head of it, that strange mixture of ruthless vengeance and
-lovableness, Owen Glyndwr, who as a pattern squire, rather scholarly
-and very hospitable, spent many quiet years, living sometimes here
-at Glyndyfrdwy beside the Dee and sometimes at his other house at
-Sycharth, and then suddenly, at the touch of injustice, unfurled the
-red dragon of Uther and became the implacable devastator whose name
-meets us in every ruin in Wales. Nothing remains now of his house, for
-Prince Hal descended upon it one day, and, having left it level with
-the ground, wrote to his “very dear and entirely beloved” Wardens of
-the Marches to tell them all about it. After describing the burning of
-Sycharth and of many houses round it he goes on: “Then we went straight
-away to his other place of Glyndourdy, to seek for him there. There
-we burnt a fine lodge in his park, and all the country round; and we
-remained there all that night.” Above the spot where the fine lodge
-stood is a curious tumulus crowned with firs, quite close to the road.
-It is known as Owen’s Mount, not because he made it, for it is far
-older than he, but because there is a story that he used it as a kind
-of watch-tower. It was at Corwen, some say, that he first raised his
-standard; but the other memories of him here are legendary and trivial.
-
-From Corwen to wild Cerrig-y-Druidion--the Rock of the Druids--the road
-rises steadily, and leads to nothing of note but the lovely little Pass
-of Glyndyffws, a deep and narrow defile of sudden unexpected beauty
-that connects two tracts of rather dull country. Here, where the Ceirw
-flings itself into the ravine from a great height and foams among the
-rocks far below us, Telford has thoughtfully supplied us with several
-little recesses in the wall from which to enjoy the view. I have heard
-that he cut his name in the stone of one of them, but I have never
-been able to find it. Perhaps it was to his name that George Borrow
-objected when he came here and laughed at “Mr. T.” for being eager for
-immortality. There was no need for Telford to be over-anxious about his
-immortality; nor yet, indeed, was there any for Borrow to flout him
-because he was not a Welsh bard!
-
-Tyn-y-nant, where “little Dick Vickers,” late of Shrewsbury Mail,
-hanged himself rather exclusively, is a place of a dreary sort; and
-so is Cerrig-y-Druidion; and so, most of all, is the straight road
-from Cerrig to Cernioge, a piece of road that catches all the winds
-of heaven, and always seems longer than it was last time. Open the
-throttle here, and be thankful--if the weather be cold--that your good
-engine is humming before you, and is making a better pace than the
-eleven miles an hour of which the shivering travellers on this road
-used to boast. Cernioge is to us merely an unkempt farmhouse, but to
-them it meant a fire and hot drinks, for it was once a posting-house of
-considerable renown.
-
-At Cernioge begins the descent into the valley of the Conway; and it is
-here that we first see, stretched out before us like the Promised Land,
-the distant grandeur of Snowdonia, the wild, impenetrable fortress of
-the Welsh and the trap of the invading English. When Pentre Voelas is
-passed the beauty grows and grows, mile by mile, and we are gently
-gliding down into the very heart of it; wild crags to the right of us,
-and before and below us a sea of woodland, valley beyond valley and
-hill beyond hill. There is one turn of the road where nearly every car
-draws up. The valley of the Conway lies at our feet, with here and
-there the river shining through the trees; the Lledr Valley stretches
-away and merges into the distant moors; Moel Siabod’s peak rises at
-the end of it; and over Siabod’s shoulder appears, on a clear day, a
-wedge-shaped corner of Snowdon, faintly blue. I have seen this view at
-many times of the year, and the best time of all is May.
-
-For the woods that are at our feet, the woods that gave its name to
-Bettws-y-Coed, the Chapel in the Wood, are at their best in May, when
-every tree has its own individual shade of colour, the larch its tender
-green, and the budding oak its pink and gold. But, indeed, Bettws is
-always lovely. Nothing can spoil its innate simplicity; not even the
-smart hats and parasols that look so incongruous in its little street
-in July and August. It exists only for tourists; there are several good
-hotels, and, roughly speaking, all the other houses are lodgings; yet
-in spite of all, Bettws is a village still. Those who like to settle
-down comfortably and motor round a centre, instead of touring from
-place to place, will find this much the most central and convenient
-spot from which to explore North Wales. And in any case, I think we
-must stay here for a night or two. We must drive to Rhuddlan and
-Conway and Dolwyddelan; we must stand on the Pont-y-Pair and watch the
-tempestuous Llugwy; we must inspect David Cox’s famous signboard at the
-Royal Oak; and in the evening, when the dusky yews are all in shadow,
-we must sit in the churchyard beside the Conway, where the great artist
-loved to paint. The church--the “Chapel in the Wood”--is uncouth and
-bare, and not improved by modern windows; but it has stood here for
-many centuries, and among its ugly pews we realise with a thrill that
-the tomb at our feet holds the dust of a prince of Llewelyn’s house.
-
-[Illustration: THE OLD CHAPEL, BETTWS-Y-COED.]
-
-[Illustration: THE LLUGWY AT BETTWS-Y-COED.]
-
-This is the country of Llewelyn the Great. On one side of us is the
-valley that tradition names as his birthplace; on the other the valley
-where he was buried. His grave we cannot see, for his burial-place at
-Aberconwy was desecrated when Edward I. built his great castle; but on
-the way from Bettws to Rhuddlan we may pause at the church of Llanrwst
-and see there, on the floor of Inigo Jones’s chapel of the Wynnes, the
-coffin of stone that once held the bones of the greatest of the
-Welsh princes. There are a good many interesting things here--things
-much older than the church itself; but not the least pleasing, I think,
-is the Latin epitaph that the former rector composed, with a pretty
-wit, for his own tomb. It has been thus translated:--
-
-    “Once the undeserving schoolmaster,
-    Then the more undeserving lecturer,
-    Last of all the most undeserving rector of this parish.
-    Do not think, speak, or write anything evil of the dead.”
-
-If we are going to Rhuddlan it will not be necessary for us to cross
-the shaking bridge, designed--perhaps--by Inigo Jones. I see no object
-in a bridge shaking, myself, but there are always those at hand who for
-a consideration will shake you the bridge if it gives you pleasure.
-Our way, however, lies to the right, up a winding hill three miles in
-length, with an average gradient of 1 in 12. It is a serious climb;
-but the backward view of the mountain range beyond the Conway is
-magnificent--a view of rather a rare quality, and not often seen by
-those who depend upon horses’ legs or their own. The road that crosses
-the top of the hills runs through scenery of rather a commonplace type;
-then, as we drop down into Abergele the Morfa Rhuddlan lies before us
-like a map--a dull map--with fashionable Rhyl in the distance; and from
-Abergele to Rhuddlan the road is surely the straightest and flattest
-that ever was seen.
-
-The ivy-smothered towers of Rhuddlan Castle stand on the banks of the
-Clwyd. That great statesman and soldier, Edward I., being weary of the
-“Welsh Question,” determined to get the affair finished once for all;
-so he rebuilt this castle, settled down here with his Court and family,
-conquered the country, made its laws, and saw that they were carried
-out. There is a remnant still standing of the house where he held his
-parliament and “secured its independence to the Principality of Wales.”
-These words, though not Edward’s, are quite in the spirit of his little
-jokes. It was here that he played his historical practical joke upon
-the Welsh nation, when he promised them a prince who was a native of
-Wales and could not speak a word of English--and then showed them the
-baby. There is nothing for us to see inside this castle, for Cromwell
-altogether dismantled it, and its heavy green towers, though impressive
-enough as being the grave of Welsh independence, are not nearly so
-typical of the “ruthless king” as his great fortresses of Carnarvon and
-Harlech and Conway.
-
-Conway is only seventeen miles away, and we may see it on our return
-journey to Bettws, by driving back to Abergele, where there is a nice
-old posting-house, and thence passing on above Colwyn Bay. Five hundred
-years ago another traveller came by this way from Conway: a poor,
-duped, heart-sick king riding helplessly to imprisonment and mysterious
-death. It was at Conway that Bolingbroke’s messenger Northumberland,
-a man of a most treacherous heart, met Richard II. with solemn
-vows of friendship; and along this coast that they rode together,
-still smiling, the knave and the fool, to Rhuddlan and Flint, where
-Bolingbroke’s army lay waiting on the sands o’ Dee. Those splendid
-walls and towers of Conway that we see beyond the estuary, piled high
-above the water-side, were Richard II.’s last refuge. From that day
-forward every roof that sheltered him was a prison.
-
-All through the history of Wales this estuary has played an important
-part. Long, long before Edward’s magnificent towers rose over the
-desecrated burial-place of the great Llewelyn there was a castle
-guarding the river-mouth at Deganwy. We can see its fragments still
-if we choose to drive round that way before crossing to Conway; but
-there is only a remnant left, a few stones on a hillside facing the
-sea--stones that tell of Maelgwyn of the sixth century, and of Norman
-Robert, lord of Rhuddlan, who rebuilt Maelgwyn’s fortress and met his
-death there, and of King John of England, who was starved out by the
-Welsh. Robert of Rhuddlan’s death was picturesque, and, I imagine,
-well deserved. This was the manner of it. He was still employed in
-rebuilding the Welsh castle of Deganwy for the harrying of the people
-to whom it really belonged, when one day he fell asleep--a rash thing
-to do in those days and in that place. Then came Griffith, Prince of
-Gwynedd, with his ships, and stole all Robert’s cattle, and was just
-setting sail again when Robert awoke and saw what was going forward.
-Down this steep bank below the castle he dashed to the shore, and
-fought desperately, with only one follower to support him; but soon
-died, of course, by the spears of the Welsh. Griffith nailed his head
-to the mast and sailed away; then, when the Normans chased him, flung
-it into the sea before their eyes.
-
-As for King John, when he in his turn tried to strengthen the fortress
-of Deganwy, he was glad enough to escape with his wicked head on his
-shoulders. He had come into Wales “minded to destroy all that had life
-within the country”; but he departed, we are told, in a great fury,
-leaving a large proportion of his army behind him for Llewelyn to bury.
-For the Welsh had cut off all the supplies of the English, “so that in
-time they were glad to take up with horseflesh or anything, were it
-never so mean, which might fill up their greedy and empty stomachs.”
-So says Caradoc of Llancarvan. Other historians give us a letter
-written on the spot by a certain knight, a man of parts, of whose life
-and letters one would like to know more. He describes the royal army
-as “watching, fasting, praying, and freezing. We watch,” he continues,
-“for fear of the Welsh.... We fast for want of provisions.... We pray
-that we may speedily return safe and scot-free home; and we freeze for
-want of winter garments, having but a thin linen shirt to keep us from
-the wind.” This vivid letter-writer goes on to tell us of the spoiling
-of Aberconwy Abbey and the burning of all the valuable old Welsh
-records there, and he shows a good deal of nice feeling in the matter.
-
-It was on the ruins of Aberconwy that Edward’s glorious castle rose
-later on to overawe the Welsh. This Castle of Conway is the most
-beautiful of all Henry de Elfreton’s works, I think; more beautiful in
-itself even than Harlech; and we can well believe, as we drive across
-the bridge and under the great machicolated town gate, that in early
-days it could only be taken by the help of guile or famine. Glyndwr’s
-men won their way in by disguising one of their number as a carpenter,
-and to dislodge them Hotspur, finding his engines useless, was obliged
-to starve them out. During the Civil War the castle was held for the
-King by the Archbishop of York, an extremely “muscular Christian,” who
-on being superseded in his command felt the slight so deeply that he
-joined Mytton the Roundhead, and himself led the assault! And these
-great walls, fifteen feet in thickness, yielded at last. As one climbs
-the long flight of steps to the entrance with all these things in one’s
-mind there is something almost overwhelming in the grandeur of these
-strong towers.
-
-“A very neat castle,” says Camden.
-
-When we have had our luncheon at the Castle Hotel we must cross
-the road to Plas Mawr, the town house of the Wynnes of Gwydir, who
-entertained Queen Elizabeth there more than once, and even decorated
-her rooms with appropriate symbols, royal arms, and monograms. The
-plaster mouldings in this house are its special feature: fireplaces,
-ceilings, walls, all are ornamented with them, and in each room the
-design is different. One cannot, however, enjoy the mouldings and the
-oak furniture and the priests’ hiding-hole and the lantern window with
-an undivided mind, for the Plas Mawr ghost--unconventional soul!--walks
-by daylight.
-
-[Illustration: CONWAY CASTLE.]
-
-[Illustration: THE PASS OF NANT FFRANCON.]
-
-We leave Conway by the road that follows the western bank of the river,
-for by so doing we secure an impressive backward view of the old town
-walls, which is ample compensation for the steep ascent that soon
-carries us out of sight. Moreover this road, after a few more hills
-and a few more miles of level going, with a view up the valley that
-grows lovelier every moment, will lead us to Trefriew, a dear little
-watering-place with a good hotel. The tiny church here has no outward
-attractions; it has not even any appearance of age. Yet it has its own
-romance; for it is said that when the English wife of Llewelyn the
-Great--Joan, the daughter of King John--found the severe climb to the
-old church of Llanrhychwyn too much for her, her thoughtful husband
-built this one for her at the foot of the hill. Those who do not
-share her feelings may still see, on the heights above the village, the
-yet older church where Llewelyn worshipped before his wife objected
-to the walk. And beyond it again, on the wild hill-top, is Llyn
-Geirionydd, on whose shores lived Taliesin, the Bard of the Radiant
-Brow, the most famous of all the Welsh bards.
-
-Between Trefriew and Bettws there are but a few miles of level road and
-very lovely scenery. Gwydir Castle, the old house of the Wynnes, stands
-between us and the river, and may be seen when Lord Carrington is away.
-It is full, I believe, of carvings and tapestry and relics of history.
-Queen Elizabeth stayed here, and Leicester, and Charles I.
-
-But here among these wild Welsh hills Elizabeth’s starched ruff and
-Charles’s curls strike one as a little out of place. We may find
-memories of Elizabeth--who seems to have slept in as many different
-places as a motorist--in half the towns and big houses of England. This
-is the country of the Kings of Gwynedd.
-
-We saw the Lledr Valley stretched out before us as we came down the
-hill from Pentre Voelas to Bettws. But that bird’s-eye view of it
-gives one no idea at all of its extreme beauty; of the towering height
-of its steep slopes, now bare and rocky, now richly wooded: of its
-brilliant colouring and deep purple shadows. At the head of it, where
-its beauty is partly spoiled by quarries and all their works, is
-Dolwyddelan village; and beyond that again, standing alone among the
-desolate hills, is the stern tower where Llewelyn the Great, the “eagle
-of men,” is believed to have been born. It is only a square tower now,
-and though it once had two towers it was never a place of any size;
-for Dolwyddelan and Dolbadarn, the two mountain strongholds of the
-princes of Gwynedd, did not rely upon their own strength, but on the
-great bewildering hills that defended them on every side. Thus it was
-that this small fortress was the last to yield to Edward I. And while
-remembering Llewelyn here do not let us forget to dedicate one sigh to
-his poor father, Iorwerth Drwyndwn--of the broken nose--who, when that
-unfortunate feature kept him from his princedom, was given this country
-and its tower by way of compensation.
-
-It is the custom to return to Bettws from this point, for reasons that
-a glance at the Contour Book may perhaps explain. But the fashion
-has been set, I think, by bicyclists, whom one really cannot blame
-for shirking the hill that rises between Dolwyddelan and Maentwrog.
-Here let me assure motorists that there is little reason why they
-should miss the wild beauty of the moors above this point; the rolling
-expanse of brown and purple bogland, the endless succession of hills,
-the grand outline of Moel Siabod. For though the road is certainly
-steep the surface is excellent, except for a mile or so above Blaenau
-Festiniog, that strange town on the mountain ledge that entirely owes
-its existence to the neighbouring quarries, and yet is more than a
-mile long and has three railway stations. There is no need to brave
-the hill again to return to Bettws, for the road by Maentwrog,
-Penrhyndeudraeth, and the Pass of Aberglaslyn is one of the loveliest
-in Wales, and though we shall come down the Pass by and by there is
-no hardship in going over the ground twice. It is worth remembering,
-too, that at Maentwrog it is possible, if time allows, to cross the
-valley and approach the famous toy railway-line at its prettiest point,
-Tan-y-Bwlch, where a lake lies hidden among the woods, and where we may
-have tea on the grass close beside the water, facing a scene of rich
-colouring and deep, cool shadows.
-
-All this, however, is a digression. It is highly probable that the
-great majority of motorists will look at the Contour Book and return
-to Bettws from Dolwyddelan. They will have the advantage of seeing the
-Lledr Valley from a new point of view.
-
-Now in the Snowdon country there are three great passes through the
-mountains to the sea: the Passes of Nant Ffrancon, Llanberis, and
-Nant Gwynant combined with Aberglaslyn. It is hard to say which is
-the most beautiful of the three; and it is quite imperative, and also
-quite easy, to see them all by pursuing rather a zigzag course. Nant
-Ffrancon is the route of the Holyhead Road and the nearest to Bettws:
-so we will go down by Nant Ffrancon, and come up again by Llanberis on
-the same day; and on the next start off again by way of Nant Gwynant
-and Aberglaslyn, passing through Bedd Gelert.
-
-The road climbs out of Bettws through a thick wood beside the rushing
-Llugwy, and soon draws near the Swallow Falls.[7] This triple fall is
-only a stone’s-throw from the road, and it is worth while to follow the
-slippery path across the pine-needles, and stand for a moment in the
-pricking spray watching the commotion. In the thick of the hubbub they
-say the spirit of Sir John Wynne, which left this mortal coil early
-in the seventeenth century, is being “purged, punished, and spouted
-upon”; though I have never heard anything definite against him except
-that he was “shrewd and successful.” He was a member of that Court of
-the Marches of which we heard so much at Ludlow, and he left a very
-valuable record of his family behind him.
-
-This bit of country between Bettws and Capel Curig is one of the gems
-of North Wales. Moel Siabod towers above us; and beyond it soon appears
-that cloud-capped peak whose name quickens every Welsh heart--the
-rallying-point of heroes, the symbol and stronghold of the liberties of
-Wales. The finest view of Snowdon is from Capel Curig, where the double
-peak is reflected in the double lake.
-
-Our road, still climbing, turns to the right in Capel Curig and
-takes us up into the heart of the hills, through a scene of splendid
-desolation--bare heights, huge boulders tossed and heaped upon the
-ground, jagged outlines, and dark sullen colours--a land that was
-vastly disconcerting to those travellers of an earlier day whose
-idea of beauty was “a smiling landscape.” As we reach the summit and
-see the waters of Llyn Ogwen below us, sapphire-blue or lead-grey
-according to circumstances, the great sides of Tryfaen and the Glydyrs
-tower on the left. Beyond the lake Alla Wen rises steeply. “A horrid
-spot of hills,” says a seventeenth-century writer. “The most dreadful
-horse-path in Wales,” says Pennant; and that indeed it may well have
-been before Telford came here to perform his miracles of engineering.
-“The district through which the surveys were carried is mountainous,”
-he says quietly; “and I found the existing roads very imperfect.” When
-we have passed Llyn Ogwen, and the cottage where food is to be had if
-necessary, and the sudden turning over the bridge, and are swinging
-down the gentle slope of Nant Ffrancon high up on the mountain-side,
-we must surely give nearly as much admiration to this road which
-descends for ten miles with no steeper gradient than 1 in 15 as we give
-to the wide Valley of the Beavers below us. Above us the mountain is
-a mass of grey boulders, of scars and landslips; below us it sweeps
-down precipitously to where the little Ogwen dances like a streak of
-quicksilver. Presently we pass under the hideous excrescence of the
-Penrhyn slate quarries, grey terraces of rubbish contrasting cruelly
-with the glowing gorse of the opposite slopes; and then through the
-equally hideous town of slate, Bethesda, the miners’ town, whose slate
-walls, slate steps, and slate porches are enough, as Dr. Johnson, would
-say, “to make a man hang himself.” Let us hurry on into the Cochwillan
-Woods.
-
-Very soon after passing the modern towers of Penrhyn Castle we reach
-the town of Bangor, “which for the beauty of its situation, was called
-Ban-cor, the high or conspicuous choir.” It is not a very inviting
-place, nevertheless, and there is no need to pause here, for even the
-cathedral is not beautiful. It has had a great deal to bear; for it
-was burnt by Harold the Saxon, and again by King John, and again by
-Owen Glyndwr; and no doubt the castle built by Hugh, Earl of Chester,
-suffered on one or all of these occasions, for Camden says, “though
-he made diligent inquiry he could not discover the least footsteps”
-of it. The original cathedral was founded by St. Deiniol in the sixth
-century, and beneath it is buried the great Welsh prince Owen Gwynedd,
-hero of many battles, who fought here on the heights above the straits
-a fight so desperate that “the Menai could not ebb on account of the
-torrent of blood which flowed into it.” Before we go on to Carnarvon we
-must cross those straits, for the sake of the bridge, and of the view,
-and of Beaumaris.
-
-It was in the year 1826 that the mail-coach, swaying under its burden
-of excited officials, rolled slowly for the first time over the Menai
-Bridge. It was a brave scene. Telford, in his modest way, had pleaded
-against a formal procession, but he could not check personal enthusiasm
-nor prevent the mustering of that long, long line of carriages and
-horsemen and thousands on foot, which followed the Royal London and
-Holyhead Mail, amid the fluttering of flags and the firing of guns, and
-the roaring of a gale. Nor yet could he control the shouts that rose
-above the wind when he himself passed by in an inconspicuous carriage.
-
-As soon as we reach the sacred shore of Mona, the last home of
-the Druids, we turn sharply to the right; unless, indeed, we
-have a mind to pursue the Holyhead road for a couple of miles,
-for the pleasure of telling our friends that we have seen
-Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerchwryndrobwllantysiliogogogoch. I once
-heard a rumour that this place was to be connected by rail with
-Pontrhydfendigaedmynachlogfawr, but as the scheme may come to nothing
-perhaps it would be wiser not to mention it.
-
-From the shore road to Beaumaris we see the whole grand panorama of
-the Gwynedd mountains, height beyond height and range beyond range,
-from the pale distant peak of Snowdon to the dark shadows of steep
-Penmaenmawr. It is a scene that has a quality of strangeness in it.
-One looks at it from the outside, as it were; for Anglesey, which once
-was green with the sacred groves of the Druids, is now, as it was
-in the days of Giraldus Cambrensis, “an arid and stony land, rough
-and unpleasant in its appearance.” One feels, on this flat shore,
-worlds away from that beautiful country beyond the strait. On a day
-of sunshine and cloud, when the mountains are glowing with every
-imaginable colour and seem every moment to be changing their shapes
-under the moving shadows, it is worth driving many a mile to sit on the
-beach of Beaumaris.
-
-Behind us, close at hand, is Beaumaris Castle; opposite to us, across
-the water, is “Aber of the white shells,” where Llewelyn the Great held
-his Court, and where his English wife died; and a little further along
-the Anglesey shore to our left is Llanfaes, where he buried her “with
-dire lamentation and no little honour,” and built over her grave a
-monastery that was altogether destroyed by Henry IV. Poor Joan’s coffin
-must have been through many changes before the sad day when it occurred
-to some thrifty farmer that the queer old stone trough would do finely
-for his cattle to drink out of. It was fortunately discovered early in
-the last century, and another watering-trough having been found for the
-cows, it was placed in safety in the garden at Baron Hill.
-
-Beaumaris Castle does not make so brave a show as most of Edward’s
-fortresses; but its ten low towers and its double line of defence were
-no doubt formidable enough before their thick drapery of ivy gave them
-so soft an air. The rusty iron rings that hang on the outer wall give
-one of those little touches of the commonplace that bring the past so
-near. Edward I. cut a canal and filled the moat of Beaumaris Castle
-from the sea, and so the ships that brought supplies to the garrison
-were moored and unladed at the very walls.
-
-The shores of the Menai have seen a vast amount of fighting of a very
-desperate kind, from the days when the Druids stood at bay here to
-the time when Edward I. bridged the strait with boats and was badly
-beaten by the last Llewelyn. And as we re-cross the bridge and look
-down at the ancient little church of Llandysilio so far below us, we
-may remember another scene--peaceful in itself but not unconnected
-with bloodshed--when on a hill near here, Archbishop Baldwin and that
-delightful chronicler Giraldus induced many persons, by persuasive
-discourses, to “take the cross.”
-
-[Illustration: THE MENAI BRIDGE, FROM ANGLESEY.]
-
-[Illustration: CARNARVON CASTLE.]
-
-From the other side of the Menai, on the Carnarvon road, the view is,
-of course, comparatively tame; but we have only eight miles to travel
-before reaching Carnarvon, and on a level road they are soon disposed
-of.
-
-It is difficult to realise at the first moment that the well-preserved,
-clean walls upon which one comes so suddenly in the middle of Carnarvon
-were raised by Edward I.; though that king himself stands above the
-gateway, with his hand on the sword that worked so hard. This is the
-greatest of his castles; he chose it for the birthplace of his son, and
-chose it too, apparently, to be the monument and symbol of himself.
-Nothing could be a more fitting emblem of the unyielding strength of
-the king who built castles in Wales almost as profusely as other men
-build them in Spain. On this, the town side of it, one is more struck
-with its strength than with its beauty. To see it at its best one must
-cross the bridge, and from the other side of the river-mouth look at
-the huge bulk of it; the long line of the curtain-wall reflected
-in the water; the great octagonal towers, with their clusters of
-slender turrets; the unutterable repellent air of it. There are no
-windows in these cold walls; no ivy or very little, to soften their
-austerity. Even from this side, though the water and the shipping
-give it picturesque surroundings, I think Carnarvon Castle is not
-beautiful so much as impressive. When Queen Eleanor entered it through
-the gate still called the Queen’s she did not see it as it stands
-now, for it was finished by her son, who was born in the castle soon
-after her arrival. A little room in the Eagle Tower is shown as his
-birthplace; but those who have read the local records declare it to be
-proved beyond doubt that the tower was without a roof till the baby in
-question, Edward II., put a roof on it himself.
-
-It is surprisingly well preserved. This, no doubt, is partly because
-it has never been overcome by any more destructive agent than the
-starvation of its garrison. Glyndwr besieged it on its landward side,
-and his French allies attacked it from the sea; but they made little
-impression upon it, and finally, since time was precious, they thought
-it wiser to employ their engines elsewhere more profitably, though
-the garrison within numbered only twenty-eight men, in sore want of
-provisions.
-
-Between Carnarvon and the Pass of Llanberis lie ten miles of undulating
-country. But the mountains are towering before us like an impassable
-wall, growing ever higher and more formidable as we pass Llyn Padarn
-and Llanberis town, whence the mountain-railway starts for the summit
-of Snowdon. No doubt the northern shores of Llyn Padarn and of Llyn
-Peris, which lies beyond it, were once beautiful; but they are now
-merely a mass of unsightly débris, mountains of broken slate, terrace
-above terrace of melancholy grey. The southern shore of Llyn Peris,
-however, at the very foot of the Pass, has kept its own wild beauty,
-and on a craggy little hill that rises at the lower end “there is yet
-a pece of a toure,” as Leland says. A very notable piece of a tower
-it is too; for Dolbadarn was the very centre and heart and ultimate
-citadel of Welsh freedom from the earliest days. Here Llewelyn, the
-third and last, kept his brother a prisoner for twenty-three years,
-and here Owen Glyndwr hid himself whenever it suited him to elude the
-English, who invariably lost their way among these mountains. It was
-here, too, that Owen hid his chief enemy, Lord Grey of Ruthin, who had
-embroiled him with the King of England and caused all the trouble. But
-this little square grey “pece of a toure” is far older, they say, than
-Owen or Llewelyn. It is supposed to have been built by Maelgwyn, the
-same prince who built that first castle at Deganwy which was rebuilt
-by Robert of Rhuddlan and King John at such large cost to themselves.
-Maelgwyn, King of Gwynedd in the sixth century, is one of the forceful
-characters who stand out here and there conspicuously in the rather
-bewildering host of Cymric princes; a personable man, according to
-all accounts, and one of great courage and success in battle, yet not
-without leanings towards the monastic life. He actually became a monk
-for a time; but no one can have been greatly surprised when he tired
-of the constraint and took to soldiering again. On the whole I fear
-he was a truculent creature, for Taliesin, “chief of the bards of the
-West,” proclaimed, with the ambiguity common to prophets, that--
-
-    “A most strange creature should come from the sea-marsh of Rhianedd
-    As a punishment of iniquity on Maelgwn Gywnedd,
-    His hair, his teeth, and his eyes being as gold.”
-
-And Maelgwyn died of the yellow plague.
-
-[Illustration: DOLBADARN CASTLE.]
-
-[Illustration: SNOWDON, FROM CAPEL CURIG.]
-
-It is only a little way beyond this point that the actual Pass of
-Llanberis begins to rise, cleaving its straight course between the
-mountains to the very foot of Snowdon--“to the Welsh always the hill
-of hills,” as Borrow says. The highest peak, Y Wyddfa, is not visible
-from the Pass, but one sharp-edged shoulder in certain lights seems
-to be within a stone’s-throw of the road. This is the steepest of the
-three passes near Snowdon, and the one whose name is best known to the
-world in general. As for beauty--the most beautiful of the three is the
-one on whose royal blues and imperial purples one’s eyes are actually
-feasting at the moment. But I would say this: to understand even the
-elements of the beauty of these hills it is imperative to travel _up_
-each of the three passes, for as one climbs up into the heart of the
-mountains the effect is in every case more beautiful than on the
-downward journey. On a continuous tour this is of course impossible;
-and that is one reason why the best way of seeing Snowdonia is to
-stay for a few days at a centre, such as Bettws, or Capel Curig, or
-Pen-y-Gwryd.
-
-At one or other of the two latter places it will probably be necessary
-to spend a night after this run from Bettws to Bangor and Carnarvon.
-Capel Curig has the finer view, and a hotel that has overlooked Llyn
-Mymbyr and faced the peaks of Snowdon for many a year. I do not know if
-it is the same that Sir Walter Scott stayed in and Lockhart described
-as “a pretty little inn in a most picturesque situation certainly, and
-as to the matter of toasted cheese, quite exquisite”; but it is without
-doubt the same that seemed to George Borrow “a very magnificent
-edifice.” He dined here, he tells us, “in a grand saloon amidst a great
-deal of fashionable company,” who “surveyed him with looks of the most
-supercilious disdain.” I strongly suspect that both the fashion and the
-disdain existed only in a sensitive imagination.
-
-Pen-y-Gwryd is exactly at the junction of the Pass of Llanberis with
-Nant Gwynant, the valley down which our future course lies; and here
-too there is a comfortable inn, with memories of Charles Kingsley and
-the author of “Tom Brown’s Schooldays.” From this point we can start
-off in the morning without retracing a step.
-
-As one glides down the perfect gradient of this entrancing valley of
-the Glaslyn, with the very blue waters of Llyn Gwynant glittering below
-and the sides of Snowdon rising precipitously from the shore on the
-right, and on the left the wild green slopes climbing up and up from
-the roadside to the sky, one comes after all to a decision as to the
-comparative beauty of these passes. Nant Gwynant is the best. The hill
-is three miles and a half long, and in some places just steep enough
-to force us to slacken speed and so make the most of our surroundings;
-then a few miles of undulating road lead past Llyn Dinas and, still by
-the side of the stony Glaslyn, into the village of Bedd Gelert, which
-has won fame on false grounds as the burial-place of Llewelyn’s hound.
-The rough, pathetic tomb, that stands in a meadow and is reached by a
-path made by the feet of thousands of pilgrims, has a most plausible
-appearance; but it was, I believe, raised by the forethought of a
-hotel-keeper--a man who apparently knew his world. No bones of a
-faithful dog lie here; but if we may not weep over the dust of Gelert
-we may at all events mourn the loss of a beautiful, but dead, legend.
-We drive through the village and enter, almost at once, the Pass of
-Aberglaslyn. The steep part of the road is quite short; but this
-strange cleft in the rock, this narrow ravine that holds only the river
-and the road between its cliffs, forms an imposing southern gate to the
-Snowdon mountains. We pass out of it almost suddenly into the wide,
-level meadowland of the Traeth Mawr--and may the gorse be in its full
-glory at the time!
-
-This plain that we are swinging across so happily, this plain of
-green and gold, was a barren marsh, useless to man or beast, till
-it was reclaimed in the early part of last century by a certain Mr.
-Maddox, who gave his name to the two towns that own their existence
-to him--Portmadoc and Tremadoc. At Tremadoc lived Percy and Harriet
-Shelley for a little time, while they were still happy. The poet, with
-characteristic enthusiasm, was fascinated by the great draining-scheme;
-and in his leisure moments grounded poor Harriet in Latin.
-
-It is here or at Portmadoc that we turn to the right, if we are minded,
-to explore the little-known peninsula of Lleyn. For some mysterious
-reason the greater part of this promontory is seldom visited, though it
-is not by any means without attractions. It cannot, of course, compare
-in any respect with the dramatic grandeur of the Snowdon country;
-there are large tracts that might even be called uninteresting; but
-from the southern uplands the panorama of the mountains of Gwynedd is
-really magnificent, and on the northern coast the fine outline of Yr
-Eifl--ridiculously corrupted into the Rivals--rises very grandly from
-the sea. And when the gorse is in blossom the whole country is veined
-with gold, for here they make their hedges of gorse, and the air is
-heavy with its poignant sweetness.
-
-As for the roads, they are mostly good. The roads from Pwllheli to
-Nevin, to Yr Eifl and Clynnogfawr, and to Aberdaron are all excellent;
-so also is the one that connects Nevin with Aberdaron; but the “Saints’
-Road to Bardsey” from Nevin to Llanaellraiarn should be avoided, since
-the saints, apparently, employed indifferent engineers.
-
-To reach Pwllheli from Portmadoc we must past through Criccieth, one
-of the most popular places on this coast, and one that must have been
-really beautiful before its popularity spoilt it. It has a nice hotel,
-and is, in any case, a far more attractive stopping-place than the
-ambitious Pwllheli. The castle, not without dignity, stands aloof upon
-its abrupt round promontory, facing the rows of modern lodging-house as
-though they were some new kind of enemy drawn up against it. For that
-Edwardian gateway has faced many enemies, and the castle still more. Of
-its original founding I believe nothing is certainly known, but it is
-older than its gateway, for Llewelyn the Great chose it for the prison
-of his unruly son, Gryffydd, of whom it was said that “peace was not
-to be looked for in his neighbourhood.” But, indeed, in those times a
-strong prison seems to have been the only way of securing peace in any
-one’s neighbourhood.
-
-Much the most picturesque person who has ever been connected with
-Criccieth was Sir Howel y Fwyall, or _of the Axe_. So doughty were
-his deeds at Poictiers that the Black Prince not only did him honour
-in the usual ways, with money and knighthood, but gave orders that
-the pole-axe with which he had done so valiantly should be set up in
-this castle of Criccieth--of which Howel was Constable--and should be
-served with a mess of meat daily. Eight yeoman were entrusted with this
-service, and after the ceremony the meat was given to the poor. The
-custom was kept up till the reign of Elizabeth.
-
-The name of Pwllheli is well known, if ill-pronounced, in the world of
-tourists. It aspires to be a fashionable watering-place, and one feels
-that success may possibly crown its endeavours, when one considers the
-natural disadvantages of Rhyl and Borth and many another prosperous
-spot.
-
-A few years ago we should have been obliged, having once passed
-Criccieth, to spend the night at Pwllheli; but now we shall do well if
-we rather choose Nevin for our stopping-place. A nice new hotel has
-been built there--a hotel with no foolish pretensions, but evidently
-with every intention of gradually becoming a thoroughly comfortable
-abiding-place for golfers who like quietness. The little town lies
-close under the shelter of the hills, and between it and the sea is
-the flat land of the Morfa Nevin, where Edward I. gathered all the
-chivalry of England and many a foreign noble to celebrate his conquest
-of Wales in a great tournament.
-
-Nevin is threatened with the railway, which, if it actually approaches
-the place, will certainly spoil it; but it will be long, I imagine,
-before any intrusion of that kind disturbs the peace or injures the
-beauty of little Aberdaron. It is an elect spot, this End of the World
-in Wales; more remote, less visited than St. David’s, and infinitely
-less famous; yet once trodden, like St. David’s, by the weary feet of
-countless pilgrims. For just beyond that low headland on our right is
-sacred Bardsey, the Island of the Saints, where lies the dust of twenty
-thousand holy men. St. Mary’s Abbey, of which some fragments still are
-left, was founded in such early days that Dubritius, who crowned King
-Arthur and then resigned the See of Caerleon to St. David, came to end
-his day in this remote monastery; and so holy was the soil at last
-that every monk in Wales crossed this dangerous channel to kneel upon
-it. It was here, from these wide, white sands of Aberdaron, that they
-embarked, half trembling, half inspired--white-robed Cistercians and
-sombre Benedictines--and here, in this little church between the hills
-and the sea, that they spent the night on their knees before braving
-dangers that were not by any means imaginary. The building has been
-re-roofed and much restored, but these are the very walls within which
-the pilgrims prayed, the very walls that once gave sanctuary to any
-man, innocent or guilty, who sought their shelter. The blind wall on
-the north bears witness to the early British origin of the church.
-
-And we must not forget, as we stand thinking of the pilgrim monks on
-the shore, that this sheltered, isolated corner, hidden closely by the
-hills on the one side and protected by the long headlands on the other,
-was once visited by secular history. Into this bay sailed Hotspur’s
-father, the base Northumberland, from France, and from Harlech came
-Owen Glyndwr and Edmund Mortimer; and here in the house of the lord
-of Aberdaron they swore to be thenceforward “bound by the bond of a
-true league and true friendship and sure and good union,” and to act
-in all ways as became “good true and faithful friends to good true and
-faithful friends.”
-
-The fascinations of the Bay of Aberdaron, however, must not blind us
-to the fact that the finest scenery in the Peninsula, of Lleyn, is in
-the north. From Pwllheli we should drive across to Llanaellraiarn under
-the great brow of Yr Eifl, and then, turning to the right, follow the
-road between the wild, craggy hills and the sea to Clynnogfawr. Here
-lived and died the great St. Beuno, and the church that bears his name
-is of a size and importance quite unusual in so tiny a place: “almost
-as bigge as St. Davides,” says Leland. This large church only dates
-from the fifteenth century, but the little chapel where St. Beuno is
-buried is connected with it by a covered way, and was founded by the
-saint himself in the seventh century. His tomb was still to be seen
-in Pennant’s day, and had the gift of working miracles, but now both
-monument and miracles are no more. In the larger church is carefully
-preserved a strange old chest that is said to have belonged to St.
-Beuno.
-
-To reach the Traeth Mawr from Clynnog our best way is to go on to
-Pont-y-Croes, then strike across to Pen-y-Groes, and thence descend
-to Tremadoc. There is not much to be said in favour of this road’s
-surface, but the beauty of it increases every moment, and for the
-last few miles, as we drop gently down on to that plain of gorse that
-lies like a sheet of flame between two ranges of purple mountains, we
-have as fine a sight above, below, and before us as any we shall find
-in Wales. A few minutes later we are in Portmadoc, and from the long
-embankment there look up the valley of the Glaslyn across the Traeth
-Mawr to that gate of Gwynedd through which we came a little while ago.
-
-Presently we cross the estuary of the river Dwryd by a toll-bridge.
-I think this river-bank must be the scene of a touching incident
-described by Giraldus. He and his Archbishop, recruiting for the
-Crusades, were met “at the passage of a bridge” between the Traeth
-Mawr and Llanbedr near Harlech by Meredyth ap Conan, a prince of this
-country. He brought with him a large suite, and then and there by the
-river-side the Archbishop preached to them, and “many persons were
-signed with the Cross.” Among these ardent souls was a personal friend
-of the young prince. Meredyth, seated higher on the bank than his
-suite, looked on while the symbolic cross was sewn upon the cloaks of
-the new crusaders, till it came to the turn of his own friend. Then
-Meredyth, says Giraldus, “observing that the cloak on which the cross
-was to be sewn was of too thin and too common a texture, with a flood
-of tears threw him down his own.”
-
-From the banks of the Dwryd a very level road soon brings us within
-sight of Harlech. It is a very distant glimpse of it that we have
-first; an irregular outline, a grey mass of towers standing out against
-the sky, raised grandly upon a rock above a plain that is nearly as
-flat as the sea beyond it. Then trees hide it, and we climb through the
-woods to the level of the great gate before which so many armies have
-stood before us--armies of Owen and of Henry, of Edward IV., and of
-Oliver.
-
-[Illustration: NEAR BEDD GELERT.]
-
-[Illustration: GATEWAY OF HARLECH CASTLE.]
-
-Long, long before Henry de Elfreton, king of architects, built this
-grand fortress at Edward’s command, a royal castle stood upon this
-rock. So, at least, says one of the “Mabinogion,” and here, under the
-spell of the land that created those old romances, I would fain believe
-that Branwen, the daughter of Llyr, lived at Harlech with her royal
-brother Bendigeid Vran, and that Matholwch, King of Ireland, came
-across the sea to woo her, with thirteen ships flying beautiful flags
-of satin. At the wedding, unfortunately, there was trouble between
-the two kings; but after a certain amount of friction the banquet was
-“carried on with joyousness,” and the happy pair journeyed towards
-Ireland with their thirteen ships. In Ireland Branwen “passed her
-time pleasantly, enjoying honour and friendship,” which she owed to
-the fact--we are given to understand--that she presented each of her
-visitors with a clasp, or a ring, or a royal jewel, “such as it was
-honourable to be seen departing with.”[8] By and by mischief was
-made between Matholwch and his wife, and she was sent to the kitchen
-to cook for the Court, which seems a drastic way of treating a Queen
-Consort. Then came Bendigeid Vran, her brother, to avenge her, with the
-hosts of seven score countries and four, and there was war between the
-two islands because of her. And only seven men of the Welsh escaped,
-and in Ireland none were left alive except five women. And Branwen went
-with the seven men of Wales to Mona, and she “looked towards Ireland
-and towards the Island of the Mighty, to see if she could descry them.
-‘Alas!’ said she, ‘woe is me that I was ever born; two islands have
-been destroyed because of me!’ Then she uttered a loud groan and there
-broke her heart. And they made her a four-sided grave, and buried her
-upon the banks of the Alaw.” And her name still lives upon this rock of
-Harlech in Branwen’s Tower.
-
-Bendigeid Vran, the son of Llyr, was not the last Welsh prince who held
-his Court here within sight of Snowdon. For Glyndwr made his way in
-between those great towers after a long siege, during which Henry’s
-garrison, who were at last reduced to sixteen, locked up their governor
-because they did not trust his constancy. Glyndwr brought his family
-here, and held a parliament, and gathered a little Court round him;
-but after another long siege he lost more than the castle, for his
-son-in-law Mortimer was killed, and his wife and grandchildren were
-taken prisoners to London. But it was that later siege by Edward IV.’s
-army that was the most fierce of all. It was then that the March of the
-Men of Harlech first stirred the sea-breeze and the hearts of men; and
-it was then that the blood of six thousand men flowed here where we are
-standing before the gates. Still later on Harlech held very obstinately
-for Charles I.
-
-At Harlech we look our last on Snowdon, for the road, high above the
-sea, soon turns a corner, then dips to the shore at Llanbedr. At this
-pretty village those who are prepared to face a road that finally
-becomes little more than a track, and are, moreover, tolerably
-good walkers, may leave the high-road and drive up into a very wild
-and beautiful bit of country to Cwm Bychan. I freely admit that the
-enterprise is more suitable for bicycles than for motors, and I further
-confess that I have never undertaken it in a car myself; but I should
-be extremely happy to make the attempt on the first fine day. For Llyn
-Cwm Bychan is a lovely lake lying among moors and steep, rocky hills;
-it has the wildness of a loch in Galloway. And the only way out of this
-hollow in the hills, except the track by which we enter it, is a mighty
-staircase of stone slabs set regularly in the hillside--a staircase a
-mile in length, which has withstood time and weather since the feet of
-the Romans passed this way.
-
-Even the best-advertised car could hardly climb the Roman Steps; so we
-must rejoin the coast road at Llanbedr and go on our way to Barmouth.
-There was once a time very long ago, it is said, when all the bay that
-lies upon our right was a fertile plain, the Plain of Gwaelod, with
-cities and fortresses thick upon the ground, and a great and busy
-population, and a king called Gwyddno Longshanks. And because the land
-lay so low and the sea so close at hand a mighty embankment of stone
-was built along the shore, and all went well for many a year. But there
-came a time when the chief overseer of this great dyke was Seithenyn ap
-Seithyn Saidi, and he, unfortunately, has been known ever since as one
-of the “three immortal drunkards of the Isle of Britain.” It is easy
-to imagine the result: the decay of the dyke, and the terrible night
-when the waters swept all before them and drowned the whole Cantref of
-Gwaelod. The point of Mochras near Llanbedr was at one extremity of the
-drowned cantref; and still, when the tide is low, you may sometimes
-see the long line of the broken dyke. As late as the year 1824 there
-was a stone in existence which had been found below the sea a hundred
-yards beyond the shore, and bore an inscription meaning, “Here lies the
-boatman to King Gwynddo.”[9] I do not know if the stone still exists,
-but as it was used as a footbridge it probably does not. At the
-beginning of the nineteenth century this seems, in Wales, to have been
-considered the best way of using up old monuments. It was certainly the
-quickest.
-
-Eight miles from Llanbedr is Barmouth. The town itself is becoming
-every year more entirely a prey to the family group. Every year there
-are more hotels, more bathing-boxes, more wooden spades. But I doubt
-if anywhere in England or Wales a town is built in a more beautiful
-spot. You cannot drive across the long bridge that spans the estuary
-at its mouth, but you will be a thousandfold repaid if you leave your
-car and cross the bridge on foot, for the best view--I think I am not
-too rash in saying the best view in Wales--is from about the middle of
-the bridge. The Mawddach winds away between two ranges of mountains, on
-whose grand slopes the brilliant greens and purples, the rich browns
-and far-away faint blues change every moment under the varying sky.
-Cader Idris rises on the right in gloomy dignity from the soft drapery
-of foliage that is flung about his feet. And in the foreground, when
-the tide is low--and that, I maintain, is the loveliest time--the blue
-sea is riven with the rosy gold of wet sands, dotted with countless
-sea-gulls.
-
-A great deal of this we can see as we drive up the estuary on its
-northern bank to Dolgelley, by an excellent road that clings close
-under the hills. Every moment the scene changes, and all the changes
-are good; whether we look across at Cader’s grand shoulder against the
-sky, or up the valley at the winding water and the distant hills, or
-overhead on our left at the mountain-sides that rise so steeply from
-the very road, or even when, the trees hemming us in for a moment,
-we see only glimpses through them of purple rock or shining river.
-At Llanelltyd the Mawddach meets the Wnion, and our way lies to the
-right over the bridge. As we cross the bridge the ruins of Cymmer
-Abbey lie upon our left on the river-bank--a Cistercian abbey, as we
-may easily guess, since we know the pretty taste in scenery possessed
-by that sagacious Order. If the truth were known, I fear we might
-find that their motive in choosing, as they always did, the loneliest
-and loveliest spots in the country, was one of self-denial, for the
-mountainous solitude that we love was in their day regarded with little
-less than terror. This particular abbey was founded in the last years
-of the twelfth century, and it was patronised by Llewelyn the Great.
-Behind it, about two miles away, are the slopes of Nannau, where Owen
-Glyndwr once went for a walk with his cousin and came back without him.
-
-Owen, as I have already said, was a man of swift and extremely complete
-vengeance, and treachery made his gorge rise. His cousin, Howel Sele,
-the lord of Nannau, lived on that hill at the foot of Moel Offrwm,
-and had little sympathy--so far and so safe was he from the Marcher
-Lords--with Owen’s overbearing ways. Their relations had been strained,
-therefore; but when Howel asked his kinsman to visit him at Nannau Owen
-consented without hesitation--yet not without a coat of mail beneath
-his outer garment. As they walked in the park with a few retainers
-they saw a buck at some distance among the trees, and Owen, anxious to
-please, suggested that Howel should show his well-known prowess with
-the bow. Howel raised his bow, took aim, paused a moment; then suddenly
-turned upon his traitor’s heel and shot the arrow straight at the heart
-of his kinsman. One can picture Owen’s smile as the arrow rang upon the
-coat of mail that he wore unseen.
-
-Howel went home no more. What dreadful fate befel him no one knows for
-certain; for probably all his own retainers were killed and Owen’s were
-too busy to talk. But long afterwards a skeleton was found in a hollow
-tree quite near the spot where the famous bowman had drawn his bow for
-the last time. The house of Nannau was burnt to ashes.
-
-Before we cross the bridge to Dolgelley I should like to call attention
-to a very beautiful drive over the hills between this spot and
-Maentwrog. Beautiful as it is, it must on no account be substituted
-for the route by Harlech and the Barmouth Estuary, by those who are
-travelling in this neighbourhood for the first time; but those who know
-the estuary well, or those who are staying at Dolgelley and wish for a
-circular drive, could not do better than go up the Vale of Ganllwyd and
-over the hills to Trawsfynydd and Maentwrog, lunch at the Tan-y-Bwlch
-hotel, and return by Harlech.
-
-For the first few miles the road rises through lovely woods; the
-tempestuous Mawddach shines behind the trees, and beyond it, bounding
-the narrow valley, are steep and craggy slopes. At Tyn-y-Groes is
-a charming little hotel, much frequented by fishermen, with a fine
-view of the Mawddach and the peak of Moel Offrwm; a delightful place
-to spend a week in summer, since it is within a drive of many of the
-loveliest parts of Wales, and has itself an outlook of very striking
-beauty.
-
-Beyond Tyn-y-Groes the scenery grows wilder and the hills more bare;
-the road rises rather steeply and the surface is not all that could
-be wished. Presently we pass a turning on the left that would lead
-us, if we followed it, to the top of that strange colossal flight
-of steps whose lower end we saw at Cwm Bychan, the way by which the
-Romans climbed this mountain-side; and soon, as we reach the summit of
-the hill, the many peaks of the Snowdon range come into sight. After
-this, as is only to be expected, the view is continuously fine till we
-drop into Maentwrog on a precipitous gradient, and find ourselves in a
-valley famed for its beauty.
-
-But we must return to Dolgelley.
-
-“Dolgethle,” says Leland, who favoured phonetic spelling, “is the
-best village in this commote.” There is not much, if any, of Leland’s
-Dolgelley left, I imagine; but within the memory of this generation
-there was still standing a battered little cottage, built half of
-irregular stone-work and half of timber and plaster, that Leland may
-well have seen, though very likely it did not interest him nearly as
-much as it would interest us. It has been replaced by an ironmonger’s
-shop, and we now supply ourselves with petrol on the spot where
-“Owen, by the Grace of God Prince of Wales,” held his council, and
-drew up the instrument that allied him formally with the French. It
-was now some little time since Henry IV.’s council had written to him
-scornfully that the power of the rebels was not so great as it was
-heretofore reported, and that the people of Wales were but of little
-reputation; for which reason it seemed good to Henry, he said, “not
-to go thither in person, but by one of our Lords to do punishment on
-our said rebels.” Henry had said that just three years ago, yet the
-rebels were still unpunished. The chief rebel, indeed, was now become
-“our illustrious and most dread Lord, Owen, Prince of Wales,” signing
-alliances with his royal hand and seal, and receiving a gilded helmet
-as a gift from the King of France.
-
-At Dolgelley we turn eastwards and make our way back to the English
-border. As a matter of fact we have not actually reached the limits
-of North Wales, which is divided from South Wales by the river Dyfi,
-or Dovey. But for our present purpose it will be more convenient to
-consider a strip of the North--overlapping our present route--together
-with a strip of the South, as Mid-Wales, and to return to the border by
-the laborious but beautiful pass that rises between Dolgelley and Dinas
-Mawddy.
-
-We have six miles of climbing before us, close under the heights of
-Cader Idris, through one of the wildest tracts of country in wild
-Wales, where the road at last rises steeply between rough stone
-walls across a desolate moor, and a mountain stream dashes below us
-on the right, and in all probability a flock of little Welsh sheep
-makes excitedly for the nearest gap. For the Welsh sheep, unlike the
-sheep of England, has somewhere in its round, woolly head a glimmer
-of intelligence, and instead of rushing madly past every turning and
-every gap, knows where it wants to go and goes there with all possible
-despatch.
-
-At a point six miles above Dolgelley we reach the summit of this
-precipitous pass, the Bwlch Oerdrws, and the valley lies below us like
-a gulf. It is a fine scene and a very wild one--wild even when the sun
-is shining, but still wilder when the great bare hills are looming
-through driving clouds of rain, and wildest and most beautiful of all
-when the April snow is glistening upon the April gorse.
-
-The steepest part of the descent, the average gradient of which is
-between 1 in 7 and 1 in 8, is about two miles long. For the rest of
-the journey, through Dinas Mawddy and Mallwyd, and up the long climb
-to Cann Office, and so by Llanfair Caereinion to Welshpool, there is
-nothing to pause for, except tea at Cann Office. This mysterious name,
-oddly enough, does not appear on Bartholomew’s map where the place it
-denotes is called Llangadfan. The little inn there is very popular
-with fishermen, who seem to have a wonderful knack of securing homely
-comfort.
-
-Between Cann Office and Welshpool the scenery gradually becomes more
-English in character, for Welshpool, though not actually on the border,
-is very near it. “The grounde about the bankes and valley of Severn
-there is most pleasunt,” says Leland; and “most pleasant,” I think,
-describes this country perfectly. I cannot do better than end in his
-words. “And wille I passid this way within a iii miles of Walsch Pole
-I saw a veri notable hille beyound the valley on the lift hond having
-iii toppes as iii heddes rising owt of one body.... Communely thei be
-caullid Brethin Hilles. Not far from thes hilles enterith Shropshir.”
-
-[Illustration: THE MAWDDACH, FROM TYN-Y-GROES HOTEL.]
-
-[Illustration: LLANIDLOES.]
-
-
-
-
-THROUGH THE HEART OF WALES
-
-
-One may enter Mid-Wales by the Severn Valley, or by Knighton and the
-Teme. The probability is that one’s action in this matter is entirely
-regulated by circumstances, but if haply it were possible to be guided
-simply by charm the road across the wild hills would be the road to
-choose. For wide moorlands, whatever the season, whatever the weather,
-never fail to be attractive; whereas the valley of the Upper Severn
-is extremely variable in its appearance. Indeed, I have seen it
-look almost uninteresting: though in the spring, when on every hill
-the fruit blossom is mingled with the piercing green of the budding
-larches, I know no place where the youth of the year has a more
-engaging air.
-
-In any case, we must pass through Newtown. Despite its name, despite
-its modern appearance, the newness of this town is only comparative;
-for its prosperity waxed, I believe, as that of Caersws waned;
-and Caersws, a little higher up the valley, was at its zenith in
-the days of the Romans. We pass it by and by on our right: a mere
-village now, of no particular attractions on the surface, though no
-doubt a sufficiently interesting past is buried beneath its soil,
-for hypocausts have been found here and tesselated pavement, and
-coins bearing the magic name of Marcus Aurelius and other names less
-honoured. Less authentic, but more moving, are the associations of the
-broad meadow on our left, the traditional scene of Sabrina’s flight
-from--
-
-                  “the mad pursuit
-    Of her enragéd stepdame Guendolen,”
-
-and therefore connected for ever with Milton’s exquisite lyric,
-“Sabrina fair.” This is the “glassy, cool, translucent wave” beneath
-which the goddess sits; this is “the rushy-fringéd bank” from
-which--they say--she still sometimes rises at twilight; and here are
-the cowslips on which she sets “her printless feet” so lightly that
-they “bend not as she treads.”
-
-Between Llandinam and Llanidloes the scene begins to grow wilder;
-abrupt hills bare, or patched with gorse, rise from the roadside on our
-left; we are drawing nearer to the slopes of Plynlimmon. At Llanidloes
-there is a picturesque old market-place, and the church, founded in the
-seventh century, has some interesting and beautiful fragments from the
-Abbey of Cwm Hir; a row of fine Early English arches and some quaint
-figures on the beams that support the roof.
-
-At Llanidloes we leave the banks of the Severn, and, climbing all the
-way, pass through a prettily wooded gorge into the valley of another
-famous river--the river that is more renowned for beauty than any other
-in England--the Wye. But here at Llangurig the Wye has few charms, for
-we are at the foot of bleak Plynlimmon, and the river flows through
-a somewhat dull country that is neither fertile nor wild. Llangurig
-itself is a desolate, chilly little place, but it has a nice inn; and
-I believe the fishing is good. About eight miles beyond it we leave
-the Wye, now a mere mountain stream, at a point that is only four
-miles from its source, and after this the scenery grows more and more
-austere, as we skirt the bare sides of Plynlimmon.
-
-Upon those wind-swept slopes the red dragon of Wales was once unfurled;
-for here Owen Glyndwr, with only five hundred men, was surprised and
-surrounded by fifteen hundred of the Flemings of Pembrokeshire. He cut
-his way through them, and left two hundred of them behind him, and left
-behind him, too, an unshakable belief that he was a wizard indeed.
-
-These heights are not without grandeur. At one point, indeed, there
-is a very striking and unusual view, where the road is high upon the
-hillside, and the river, very far below, twists and curls away into
-the distance through a narrow but extremely level plain. The surface
-of this main road to Aberystwith is above reproach, but after we turn
-off to the left on the road to the Devil’s Bridge it is not so good and
-there are some rather steep hills.
-
-“If pleasant recollections,” says George Borrow, “do not haunt you
-through life of the noble falls, and the beautiful wooded dingles to
-the west of the Bridge of the Evil One, and awful and mysterious ones
-of the monks’ boiling cauldron, the long, savage, shadowy cleft, and
-the grey, crumbling, spectral bridge, I say boldly that you must be a
-very unpoetical person indeed.”
-
-The falls, and the wooded dingles, and the monks’ boiling cauldron
-are still beautiful enough to rouse any poetical feelings that we may
-possess; but the bridge, alas! is neither crumbling, nor spectral,
-nor in the least poetical. Three bridges now span the rushing waters
-of the Mynach, built closely one above the other. The lowest of all,
-dapper and shining with the cement of the restorer, is the original
-bridge built by the monks of Strata Florida in the eleventh century and
-ascribed to the Devil, not from any uncomplimentary feeling towards
-the monks, but merely because the bridging of the Mynach was no easy
-matter and demanded a simple explanation. The bridge above this is the
-one that Borrow calls modern, though it was built in 1735, and now
-looks older than the first; the topmost and newest of all is quite a
-recent achievement, and might well appropriate the name of the original
-structure, since it entirely destroys all the picturesqueness of the
-scene. No doubt, however, its existence is necessary, for this is the
-only way across the gorge: and these beautiful wooded hills and deep
-valleys, with the two tempestuous streams, the Rheiddol and the Mynach,
-are by no means dependent for their charm on the famous bridge.
-
-The road from this spot to Aberystwith is of a most striking and
-uncommon character. It is raised high on one side of the bare hill, and
-overlooks a deep valley, through which the Rheiddol twists and curves.
-The great hills beyond the valley are richly green in summer, but in
-the spring are chiefly reddish brown, with streaks of the vivid larch,
-and here and there a shining patch of gorse. A run of twelve miles,
-mostly downhill, brings us to Aberystwith.
-
-At the first glance, seen from a distance, it is not unpicturesque.
-It lies at the end of a valley, with the sea beyond it, and in the
-heart of it the castle tower stands up conspicuously to remind one
-that Aberystwith was once something more interesting than a popular
-watering-place. For once all the resources of England were combined
-in an attack upon this castle. Guns came from Yorkshire, and timber
-from the Forest of Dean; huge supplies of arms and various murderous
-concoctions were sent from Hereford, and a shipload of carpenters
-landed in the bay to turn the timber into machines of war. There was
-not a young spark in the country, apparently, but thought it incumbent
-on him as a man of fashion to join Prince Hal outside the walls of
-Aberystwith.
-
-Yet the end of all this effort and display was merely comic. Glyndwr’s
-garrison at last, half starving, agreed to yield the castle upon a
-certain day unless Owen meanwhile relieved it. The Prince, too hasty,
-as he sometimes was, went off to London joyfully and received the
-thanks of Parliament for having secured Aberystwith--at the very
-moment, had he but known it, when Owen and a relieving force were
-quietly entering the besieged castle!
-
-This was but one of many sieges suffered by Aberystwith, which was
-always regarded as a place of much importance; so much so, indeed, that
-Strongbow’s castle on this spot had been battered into uselessness
-before the days of Edward I., who had to build another. Prince Henry
-and Oliver have left little enough of that. What there is of it--some
-round towers and a piece of the curtain-wall--is more tidy than
-romantic. To tell the truth, Aberystwith is not a romantic place.
-
-It has been my happy fortune to read some manuscript letters written by
-a lady from Mid-Wales towards the end of the eighteenth century. This
-is what she says of Aberystwith--
-
-“I have inquired about Aberystwith, where the Sea is very rough, and
-no Apothecary near, and most ignorant people in regard to illness,
-which they are so happy to know nothing of, as the Sea is their ownly
-Physition.”
-
-This might be useful as a house-agent’s advertisement, if the next
-sentence were suppressed.
-
-“I think the Sea fogs very unwholesom, but dare not say so, as they are
-for ever talking about the purity of their air.”
-
-The sea is no longer the only physician at Aberystwith; but the purity
-of the air is still a topic of conversation.
-
-One of its advantages is that it is only fifteen miles from Ystradfflur
-or Strata Florida; and though this does not lie upon our route, so
-short a run is but a slight tribute to pay to a place of such great
-memories. The drive, moreover, will itself repay us. The road follows
-the Ystwith most of the way, and crosses it at Trawscoed, where
-splendid beeches overhang the river and masses of rhododendrons line
-the banks. There is one formidable hill, with a gradient of 1 in 8,
-from the top of which there is a fine view of winding river and wooded
-hills. Soon after leaving the Ystwith we join the Teify near its
-source.
-
-In the Abbey itself there is little to see, but very much to remember.
-It was founded in the twelfth century by some Cistercian monks on
-land given by a Norman; but its foundation is often ascribed to that
-great prince of South Wales, the Lord Rhys, who was one of its chief
-benefactors. Once it was the grandest house of worship in all Wales,
-the burial-place of her southern princes, the depository of her
-archives; but there is little left to show its past greatness but the
-unique west doorway and the remains of six side chapels--roofed now
-with corrugated iron! Behind the south transept is a wedge-shaped strip
-of ground that was the monks’ cemetery, where, under a stone carved
-plainly with a cross, lies Cadell, the brother of the Lord Rhys. The
-large cemetery that holds the dust of eleven Welsh princes is between
-the Abbey and the river. “The cœmiteri wherin the cunteri about doth
-buri is veri large,” says Leland, “and meanely waullid with stoone.
-In it be xxxix great hue trees.” There were originally forty of these
-yew-trees, and now there are but two or three, so it is hardly likely
-that one of the survivors should be the tree underneath which Dafydd
-ap Gwilym, the greatest of Welsh poets, was buried; the tree of which
-Gruffydd Gryg, his rival, wrote--
-
-    “May lightnings never lay thee low
-    Nor archer cut from thee his bow.”
-
-Mr. Baring-Gould tells us how these two bards were constantly in a
-state of feud and bitter rivalry, till an ingenious friend put an
-end to their quarrels by simply telling each of them that the other
-was dead, and was to be buried at Strata Florida on such-and-such a
-day--mentioning the same day in both cases. Each of the poets, in the
-glow of generosity consequent on the death of a hated rival, composed a
-beautiful ode in praise of his enemy, and proceeded to the churchyard
-to read it beside the grave. There, of course, they met; and each,
-determined to read his ode at any cost, forthwith read it to the hero
-of it, and buried his enmity instead of his enemy.
-
-It was somewhere within that “meanely waullid” cemetery that this
-quaint scene took place; and it was somewhere within these precincts
-that a thousand frightened children crowded together long ago, waiting
-to be carried away from their parents and homes in Cardiganshire to
-the exile in England to which Henry IV. had doomed them. That is an
-ill-omened name in Ystradfflur--the name of Henry Bolingbroke--for in
-his fury at the rebellion of Glyndwr he fell upon this sacred place and
-ruined it, and drove out its monks, and stabled his horses at its High
-Altar.
-
-To reach Machynlleth, which is our object, we must return to
-Aberystwith--but we may do this by a slightly different road, diverging
-at Trawscoed. The surface is better than that of the other, and the
-road is wider, but there is one bad hill, with a nominal gradient of
-1 in 7. As we approach Aberystwith we see, beyond the river, a little
-place called Llanbadarn Fawr. Here, in very early times, long before
-the great days of Ystradfflur, there was a famous monastery, founded
-by St. Padarn, a contemporary of St. David. Like St. David’s own
-monastery, it was laid waste by the Danes.
-
-[Illustration: ARCHWAY AT STRATA FLORIDA.]
-
-[Illustration: NEAR GLANDOVEY.]
-
-Passing through Aberystwith we climb out of it on the further side by
-a long hill. Except the wide view from this hill there is nothing of
-special attraction in any way till we have passed Tal-y-bont. Then
-suddenly there comes into sight the headland beyond the Dyfi (Dovey).
-Far away on the left is the sea, and between us and it lies a wide and
-absolutely level plain, with Borth showing darkly on the shore. Soon
-we pass Tre-Taliesin, named from the great bard of Arthur’s day, whose
-grave is said by some to lie on this hillside to the right, and by
-others to be beside the waters of Geirionydd. Beyond this village we
-climb through lovely woods of birch and larch, and then we run down,
-leaving the trees behind us, into the beautiful estuary of the Dyfi. A
-wide sea of gorse is at out feet; the river winds through the shallows
-beyond; and, bounding the valley and the view, rises the mighty wall of
-North Wales.
-
-This is on the left--a wide and splendid landscape; and meanwhile on
-the right are wild hills rising from the road, cleft here and there by
-narrow wooded gorges or tumbling mountain streams. At Ysgubor-y-coed
-the water dashes down between sharp rocks, and makes a lovely picture
-with the great mill-wheel and mossy-tiled building that stand beside
-it; and just beyond Glan Dovey station we catch a momentary glimpse of
-the steep sides of the beautiful Llyfnant Valley. Thence four level
-miles bring us to Machynlleth.
-
-There is a charm about Machynlleth. Its wide central street is planted
-with trees. In most Welsh towns, History, though she has lived in them
-so long, has rather an uneasy air: tales of valour, or of treachery on
-a large scale, blend rather incongruously with prim grey houses and
-slate roofs. But in Machynlleth we are quite prepared to learn that
-these quaint and quiet streets--and some of the houses, even--are bound
-up very closely with the picturesque life of the last of the Welsh
-princes: so closely indeed, that Owen Glyndwr’s royal seal figures
-in the arms of the town. In those low, whitewashed cottages he held
-his first parliament; and in that little corner-house in the next
-street he rested the uneasy head that wore a crown for such a brief
-and troublous time. It is the oldest house in Wales, they say, but
-much renovation and a new chimney have destroyed any picturesqueness
-it ever had; and it is now neither as venerable nor as interesting in
-appearance as the Old Mayor’s House, a timber-and-plaster building at
-one end of the main street, with gables leaning in all directions.
-Neither do the whitewashed Houses of Parliament show any signs of their
-distinguished past--yet here Glyndwr accepted his crown and very nearly
-lost his life. For among the members of this his first parliament was
-one who was his enemy, and the sworn man of the House of Lancaster.
-Davy Gam, “the Crooked,” a little red-haired, squinting man who,
-whatever he was, was no coward, came to this house with the intention
-of killing Glyndwr, but being betrayed, was thrown into prison for
-ten years, while his house near Brecon was burnt to ashes. Owen, with
-unusual forbearance, spared his life, perhaps in acknowledgment of
-the man’s courage in coming among his enemies single-handed. He showed
-his courage more honourably at Agincourt. “There are enough to kill,”
-he said of the French just before the battle, “enough to be taken
-prisoners, and enough to run away.” He died on that field, and was
-knighted by Henry V. as he lay dying. “He lived like a wolf and died
-like a lion,” it has been said of him.
-
-Now, on leaving Machynlleth, supposing it to be our intention to go
-on to Dolgelley and so to Bala, we have a choice of roads. All the
-ways are so beautiful, however, that we can hardly go wrong; but those
-who fix upon the shortest way, by Corris, should know that they will
-find it well worth while to run down the estuary to Aberdovey and back
-again. For this estuary of the Dyfi is second only to that of the
-Mawddach in beauty.
-
-Its best time, certainly, is in the summer, for the hills are thickly
-wooded; but at all seasons there is a lovely view at every turn of
-the road. One of those that haunt the memory is from the point where
-the road to Aberdovey, after passing through Pennal, comes again
-within sight of the river. In the foreground is a wide expanse of rich
-colouring, of red and brown, green and gold and russet; beyond it
-shines a thin line of silver; and beyond that again rise the hills of
-South Wales--not so imposing by any means as that massive bulwark of
-mountains that we saw from the other side and are now close under, but
-yet very beautiful in colour and bold in outline. As the estuary widens
-a succession of headlands stretch out before us, one beyond another,
-and round these the road curves, sometimes very sharply. At the extreme
-mouth of the estuary lies Aberdovey, in the shelter of the hills.
-
-The same eighteenth-century lady whom I quoted before describes a visit
-to “Aberdove Seaport,” as she calls it. “Down we set at the window,”
-she says, “... to see the Sea hempty it self in to a Beautifull
-serpentine river, at the beginning of which lay ten ships at harbour.”
-One cannot marvel that any one should sit down at a window to watch
-so strange a phenomenon as the sea emptying itself into a river.
-Unfortunately this interesting sight cannot now be promised to visitors
-at Aberdovey; but the “beginning” of the river still owes much of its
-picturesque effect to the little quays that jut out into the stream,
-and the ships of considerable size that lie “at harbour.” The best
-hotel, and it is an extremely nice one, is a short distance beyond
-the little town, and is perched on the hillside above the golf-links,
-facing the sea.
-
-It was somewhere in this estuary, probably on the shore of the Traeth
-Maelgwyn, that a strange scene took place between thirteen and fourteen
-hundred years ago. Maelgwyn, that King of Gwynedd whose name recurs so
-often in the history of North Wales, that gigantic man of fitful valour
-and still more fitful piety, determined to unite all the strength of
-the west under one ruler, the better to oppose the conquering Saxons.
-It was agreed that all the princes and knights who had any pretensions
-should meet together in the estuary of the Dyfi, the dividing-line
-between North and South Wales; that they should there seat themselves
-on chairs upon the shore, and he who contrived to keep his seat the
-longest should be the king. Then Maelgwyn, having settled these
-preliminaries, had a wonderful chair made for himself of the wings of
-birds, waxed. As the tide rose the seats of the other princes were
-overturned, but Maelgwyn’s chair floated on the surface of the sea. So
-Maelgwyn became chief of all the princes of the west.
-
-From Aberdovey, as I said before, we may, if we choose, drive straight
-on round the coast by Towyn and Fairbourne, and up the southern side of
-the Barmouth estuary to Dolgelley. Or we may turn eastward at Towyn,
-and reach Dolgelley by way of Tal-y-llyn. Or, thirdly, we may return to
-Machynlleth and drive thence to Dolgelley by Corris.
-
-No motorist should really rest satisfied till he has driven on all
-these roads, so beautiful are the three. Towyn, I believe, has charms
-for many, but on the surface it is singularly unattractive. It has a
-very ancient church, however, built in the twelfth century by Gruffyd
-ap Cynan, of whom it was said that he built so many that his country
-“glittered with whitewashed churches as the heavens are bright with
-stars.” Near it are some extremely interesting old memorial stones; but
-here, to all appearance, the interest of Towyn begins and ends. Beyond
-it there are some fine views of the hills as the road turns inland; and
-again when it turns to the coast and, high on the side of the cliff,
-curves round into the Barmouth estuary, the effect is really fine. It
-must have been of this part of the road that a traveller once wrote:
-“We ascended a precipice, frightful beyond description, on one side of
-us was the highest ragget Rock I have seen, the stones to appearance
-lose, and look as if just droping on your heads, some of which have
-fell a few years ago. The Precipice down to the Mean (Main) Ocean not
-less than thirty yards, and us travlers not a yard from the side of
-it, where the waves dash and tide rores, till it made me tremble.”
-Grand as these “ragget” cliffs are, however, the most beautiful part
-of this drive is in the Barmouth estuary, under the shadow of Cader
-Idris. But to many travellers in Wales this valley of the Mawddach
-is thoroughly familiar, and to them I heartily recommend the road by
-Corris.
-
-[Illustration: THE MAYOR’S HOUSE, MACHYNLLETH.]
-
-[Illustration: THE RIVER DULAS.]
-
-From Aberdovey one drives back to a point in the Dyfi Valley almost
-opposite to Machynlleth. The river Dulas, near the point where it joins
-the Dyfi, is spanned by a fine old bridge, whose arches have resounded
-to the tramp of Henry Tudor’s followers, as he and they marched
-eastwards to fight for the crown; and to the tramp of Cromwell’s men as
-they marched westwards to fight, if not for the crown, for everything
-that goes with it. It is at this point that we turn sharply to the
-left and follow the course of the Dulas. This opening of the valley of
-Corris is very lovely, for the river, which has all the impetuosity of
-a mountain stream, is overhung by splendid trees, and through their
-stems in the spring we may see the further bank, steep and mossy,
-and thickly jewelled with primroses. The whole of this narrow and
-wild valley, indeed, is full of beauty. The road rises gradually to a
-considerable height; then beyond Upper Corris, where the landscape is
-defaced, as so often in Wales, by enormous banks of slate, it drops
-down by some very steep gradients, amid fine mountain scenery, to the
-level of Tal-y-llyn.
-
-It is only the eastern extremity of the lake that we see, and this
-we leave behind us, turning at this point sharply to the right into
-a defile of extreme barrenness. This narrow gorge, with its towering
-sides reft and lacerated by landslips, its huge boulders poised as
-though about to fall, its grey slopes softened only here and there
-by patches of short grass, is the most utterly, the most desolately
-savage spot I have seen in Wales. As we leave it and emerge into more
-open country, we realise that those wild slopes were the foot of Cader
-Idris, for looking back we see the heavy grey shoulder of the mountain.
-Soon we reach Cross Foxes, and thence run down through beautiful woods
-on a delightful gradient to Dolgelley, with the purple hills of the
-Mawddach estuary showing in a long line above and behind the vivid
-green of the trees.
-
-[Illustration: THE PASS OF CORRIS, NEAR TAL-Y-LLYN.]
-
-[Illustration: BALA LAKE.]
-
-In Dolgelley, as we saw before, all the historical interest is
-concentrated on a lamp-shop. There is nothing to keep us there, unless
-we wish for a meal, or perchance a bed, at the “Golden Lion,” or unless
-we mean to use the place, as many do, as a centre for expeditions. But
-at present our concern is to turn towards the English frontier, and to
-reach it through Bala and Llanrhaiadr.
-
-For ten miles after we leave Dolgelley the road ascends, persistently
-but never steeply. The backward views of mountain, wood, and stream
-are unfailingly lovely on this road, as on all others that converge at
-Dolgelley; and no less attractive in its own way is the wilder scenery
-at the top of this hill, which is practically a pass. From the summit
-we descend to the shores of Bala Lake, and after driving for three
-miles close beside its waters we reach the little town.
-
-It is not an especially attractive place. The neighbourhood of the lake
-is of course pleasant, but the hotel--which, by the way, like many
-Welsh inns, contains some lovely old furniture--looks out over the
-street. The scenery of the lake is pretty rather than grand.
-
-Bala must have been more interesting, I think, in Pennant’s day. It
-must certainly have presented an appearance all its own; for he assures
-us that the entire population--men, women, and children--spent all
-their time in knitting stockings. They knitted in their doorways, they
-knitted as they walked about the streets, and on fine days they sat
-together on the tumulus at the end of the town, and knitted there. On
-Saturdays the fruit of all this industry was sold, to the value of four
-or five hundred pounds, in a special stocking-market. This must have
-been a sight worth seeing.
-
-We may still see the Tomen-y-Bala, the tumulus where the knitters
-used to sit and sun themselves, and where, very long ago, a little
-castle stood. The mound has been made very neat, with gravel paths and
-rhododendrons; and by paying a small sum we may climb to its modest
-summit and give a thought to the Romans who made the tumulus, and
-the Britons who made the castle, and the past generations who made
-stockings.
-
-Leaving Bala, we may follow the Dee to Corwen, and there join the great
-London and Holyhead road; and this is by far the simplest route we can
-choose.
-
-The route we should certainly _not_ choose is the so-called road from
-Bala to Lake Vyrnwy, the reservoir of Liverpool. The scenery round
-this lake is very beautiful, it is true, and an excellent hotel stands
-high on the hillside above the water; and since there is no railway
-among these wild hills, this is one of the places that show the uses
-of the motor-car most strikingly. But Vyrnwy should be approached from
-Shropshire, by way of Llanfyllin. The road that connects it with Bala
-is a narrow, precipitous pass, cut on the side of a slope that is at
-some points almost a precipice, unprotected by any kind of fence,
-sloping downwards on the outer side, and crossed at short intervals by
-natural water-channels. It is a discouraging picture, and the reality
-is, to put it mildly, uncomfortable.
-
-As an alternative to the Corwen road we may cross the Holy Dee at the
-very spot where the “wizard stream,” as Milton calls it--that stream
-that had the gift of prophesying good or evil fortune to the cause
-of Wales--flows from the parent waters of Llyn Tegid or Bala Lake,
-and following a mountain road of many “dangerous” hills, visit the
-waterfall at Llanrhaiadr before we pass into Shropshire.
-
-The fall is at a lonely spot about four miles beyond the village of
-Llanrhaiadr, which is itself a pretty place with a nice inn. The road
-that leads to Pistyll-y-Rhaiadr is little more than a lane, but one may
-drive up almost to the very foot of the fall. “Prodigious high,” says
-the letter-writer I have so often quoted: “and seemingly the hend of
-the world.” There is really some excuse for this dramatic statement.
-An abrupt mass of rock rises before us impassably. On each side of it
-are pine-woods, climbing the craggy slopes. There is an air of finality
-about the place: it is “seemingly the hend of the world.”
-
-
-
-
-A TOUR IN SOUTH WALES
-
-
-For those whose affections are at all equally divided between natural
-beauty and historical interest the map of South Wales presents a
-dilemma. The imperative thing is to avoid the once beautiful hills
-and valleys that are now scarred, and rent, and blackened with
-coal-dust; and this may be done by taking either the moorland road
-above the mining country, or the level road below it near the sea. Now
-I, who know both these roads, assure you that in adopting either of
-these courses you will miss much. For if you choose the lower road,
-tempted by its excellence, you will miss some of the finest scenery in
-South Wales, which, though not to be compared with the North, is yet
-beautiful; and if you choose the upper one you will miss the romance
-of Beaupré, and the very ancient memories of Llantwit Major, and you
-will, moreover, miss a good many miles of as fine a road as ever made
-an engine purr. There is only one way out of this dilemma, namely, to
-follow a zigzag course, from the sea to the hills, from the hills to
-the sea, and so enjoy the best of both roads.
-
-To avoid the mines we must aim very low; at Cardiff or Caerphilly.
-And if we are approaching the Border from Monmouth or Hereford, or
-the Midlands, we shall probably, just before we reach the spreading
-outskirts of Newport, pass through a village with a great name. A dull,
-sleepy-looking village it is, standing in a commonplace landscape
-beside a very dirty stream, a place entirely without superficial
-attractions. But it is a name to conjure with. Caerleon-upon-Usk, the
-City of Legions! Once it “abounded in wealth above all other cities,
-... and passing fair was the magnificence of the kingly palaces
-thereof.” The gilded roofs of the Romans glittered here beside the Usk,
-and the great amphitheatre that may still be traced once echoed to the
-shouts of the second legion: towers and temples, baths and aqueducts
-and splendid buildings stood where now a few poor houses keep alive
-the name of Caerleon. Round its shining palaces grew up a world of
-legend. We know all about the fine doings at Arthur’s coronation
-here: how he and Guinevere were crowned in different churches, and
-how the music in both was “so transporting” that the congregations
-ran to and fro between one church and the other all day; and how a
-banquet of great splendour followed, with Caius, the server, dressed
-in ermine, and Bedver, the butler, waiting with all kinds of cups, and
-hosts of noblemen handing the dishes; and how, after the feast, the
-soldiers got up a sham fight to amuse the ladies, who sat on the town
-walls and “darted amorous glances in a sportive manner.” And in the
-“Mabinogion” we are given a more domestic picture of King Arthur at
-Caerleon-upon-Usk: a picture of him in his palace dozing upon a seat
-of green rushes covered with flame-coloured satin, with a red satin
-cushion under his elbow, while Guinevere and her handmaidens sit at
-their needlework by the window, and a group of knights are drinking
-mead from a golden goblet. And at Caerleon, too, it was that Maxen
-Wledig, the truant Emperor of Rome, built one of three great castles
-for Helen, his wife. He had seen her first in a dream, and sought her
-by land and sea, and having found her he forgot his Empire and lived in
-Britain seven years. So they made them a new Emperor in Rome.
-
-“And this one wrote a letter of threat to Maxen. There was nought in
-the letter but only this, ‘If thou comest, and if thou ever comest to
-Rome.’ And even unto Caerleon came this letter to Maxen, and these
-tidings. Then sent he a letter to the man who styled himself Emperor in
-Rome. There was nought in that letter also but only this, ‘If I come to
-Rome, and if I come.’”
-
-So, through the Middle Ages, the memory of the great days of Caerleon
-was preserved in legend.
-
-Long before we have finished dreaming of King Arthur and his red satin
-cushion the tram-lines of Newport force themselves upon our attention.
-Newport was so called, I believe, because it superseded Caerleon, the
-old port, of which Leland says: “Very great shyppes might wel cum now
-to the town, as they did in the Romaynes tyme, but that Newport Bridge
-is a lette.”
-
-Before leaving Newport any one who is likely to be hungry soon will
-do well to secure a meal, for though Cardiff is not far away the
-ruins of Caerphilly take some time to see, and the little town cannot
-be depended upon for food. And we must on no account miss seeing
-Caerphilly; for this vast ruin covers more ground than any other in
-this island, and, moreover, has the special distinction of being a
-characteristically Edwardian castle of a date earlier than Edward’s. It
-was chiefly the work of Gilbert de Clare, the Red Earl of Gloucester,
-whose architect, unlike that great artist, Henry de Elfreton, thought
-little of beauty when he designed these mighty walls, but altogether
-of strength. “Waules of a wonderful thickness,” says Leland; and of a
-wonderful thickness they are, and of a wonderful tenacity too, seeing
-that one of the great bastions that were mined with gunpowder in the
-Civil War was only half ruined, and the other half has been leaning
-at a most surprising angle ever since. The history of the ruins is not
-at all in proportion to their size; and, indeed, it is possible that
-their size and strength may have acted as a deterrent to the makers of
-history. There is a story that Edward II. took refuge here with the
-Despensers; but even these unyielding walls failed to give any real
-sense of security to that poor spirit and at the first word of his
-enemies’ approach he hurried away, preferring to trust to disguise.
-He chose the inappropriate _rôle_ of a farm labourer--this indolent,
-boudoir-King, who had never done a day’s work in his life--and he
-failed signally to please his master, who was as anxious to be rid of
-him as his subjects were. It was soon after this that he was captured
-and led away to the horrors of Berkeley Castle.
-
-On the direct route from Caerphilly to Cardiff there rises such a
-precipitous hill that the longer way by Nantgarw is really the best;
-and unless Cardiff has some special attraction for us there is no
-need to thread our way through its modern streets and its maze of
-tram-lines. For the Cardiff of the Romans, and of the Welsh princes of
-Morganwg, and of the Norman barons, is altogether overpowered by the
-Cardiff of commerce; and though there is a fragment left of the castle
-that has sheltered so many crowned heads at various times, the castle
-in which poor blind Robert of Normandy was a prisoner for twenty-eight
-years, yet even this is modernised and closed to the public.
-
-But in Llandaff, which is now practically a suburb of Cardiff, there
-are still signs of age: a picturesque green and restored cross,
-some pretty old houses, and the cathedral of the most ancient see
-in the island. For even when St. Teilo of the sixth century laid
-the foundation of the first cathedral the bishopric of Llandaff had
-been in existence for more than five hundred years. By the eleventh
-century Teilo’s cathedral was past repair; and when the “business
-of the Cross was publicly proclaimed” here it was in a new building
-that the Archbishop celebrated mass--the same building, more or
-less, that stands down there in that curious hollow to-day. More or
-less: for the restorations of this greatly chastened cathedral have
-been many, and it has narrowly escaped suffering even more terrible
-things at the hands of its well-wishers. Jasper Tudor’s beautiful
-and uncommon west tower, for instance, was once threatened by an
-eighteenth-century bishop, a versatile soul who wrote a successful
-“Treatise on the Modes.” He was evidently more capable of dealing with
-the modes than with ecclesiastical architecture, for we hear that he
-was seized with a longing to remove Jasper’s tower and replace it with
-a rustic porch.[10] For once the poverty of the see was a fortunate
-circumstance, and saved the tower. But no doubt that same poverty
-injured the building greatly on many occasions; for at one time the see
-was so cruelly robbed by the Crown that its brave and humorous bishop
-had himself presented to Henry VIII. as the Bishop of Aff. “I was the
-Bishop of Llandaff,” he explained, “but lately the _land_ has been
-removed.”[11]
-
-[Illustration: CAERPHILLY CASTLE.]
-
-[Illustration: BEAUPRÉ CASTLE.]
-
-The tombs of Llandaff Cathedral are of great interest; and it is
-with real pleasure that one sees the new, for once, not unworthy to be
-beside the old. The recumbent figure of marble on the grave of Dean
-Vaughan is really beautiful.
-
-As we climb the long hill a mile or two beyond Llandaff, we see Cardiff
-stretched out below us, a forest of masts and tall chimneys--an
-impressive symbol in its way. Then, when we reach the level ground,
-we forget everything for a time but the sheer delight of moving on
-a perfect road--forget even the heights of Exmoor showing faintly
-across the water on the left, and on the right the wild hills of
-Glamorganshire rolling away into the distance.
-
-Now, at Cowbridge, it is necessary to come to a decision. If it should
-be too much for the resolution of an ardent motorist to leave this
-road, he may pursue his way to Neath without “lette,” as Leland would
-say; but for all antiquarians, artists, and other lovers of romance and
-beauty, the finger-post points very resolutely to a detour by Beaupré,
-Llantwit, St. Donat’s, and Ewenny.
-
-About two miles south of Cowbridge is Old Beaupré (Bewper). Do not
-climb the stile and walk across the fields, but drive on a hundred
-yards or so to the gate; for this grass-grown, deserted avenue is the
-fitting approach to the spellbound house of the Bassetts, that strange
-mixture of splendour and squalor, with its delicate carvings and dainty
-Corinthian pillars and its air of utter desolation. We know very well
-as we look at it that fair faces once looked down through those Tudor
-windows, and gay satins swept between the classic columns of the
-doorway, and the walls echoed to music and singing and laughter, until
-the fatal day that an enchantment was laid upon the beautiful white
-doorway of the love-lorn Welshman who learnt his art in Italy, and upon
-the avenue that once led the Bassetts out to war and home to love, and
-upon every stone of the old castle, so that it became a farmhouse.
-And now the fluted pillars and carved friezes are green with moss and
-fringed with ferns, and the walls echo to nothing but the clucking of
-innumerable hens.
-
-Beaupré is not greatly visited. There is, indeed, nothing to see but
-that strange, incongruous doorway and the ghosts that flutter round
-it; but it is one of those eloquent, unforgettable places through
-which, for a moment, one seems to be actually in touch with the life
-that they have seen.
-
-At Llantwit Major the interest is of a very different kind. Here there
-is not very much to attract the artist, but to the antiquary and
-historian “the dwelling-place and home of the Blessed Illtyd” must
-surely be of the first importance. For it was here that the Breton
-saint, St. Iltutus, or Illtyd, founded a monastery and university that
-made a very deep mark upon the life of the sixth century; for its
-professors educated not only all the princes of the west, but also
-every illustrious Welshman--bishop, saint, or scholar--of the day. It
-is not surprising that an institution of its size and brilliancy--for
-its 2,400 students filled four hundred houses--should have seized the
-imagination of early writers, and given rise to so much picturesque
-legend that it is hard to know the truth. Some say that St. David
-himself was taught by St. Illtyd, and that Gildas the historian,
-called the Wise, and Taliesin, the bard of the Radiant Brow, were
-also brought up here. Of Illtyd himself the tale is told that he was
-originally a soldier, but hearing the call, he forsook his profession
-and his wife for the life of a hermit; and when his poor wife came
-to him, one day as he was working in the fields, he silently turned
-away from her, and stood so, with his back to her, till she left him
-in despair. This is a pathetic foundation for all the scholarship and
-saintliness of the sixth century in Wales, and one can only hope, for
-the sake of Illtyd’s conscience when he was a comfortable professor,
-that it is untrue. Of all the four hundred houses and seven halls of
-his university not a stone is now left; but in the church, which is
-itself very full of interest, there are some wonderful monuments, one
-of them being a memorial raised to St. Illtyd by one of his pupils,
-Samson, a saint himself. The head of the cross is gone, but on the
-shaft the beautiful Celtic designs are still clear and the words still
-legible to those who can read them--“Samson placed this cross for his
-soul.”
-
-Just beyond Llantwit and nearer to the Bristol Channel is St. Donat’s,
-which, as Leland says, “stondith on a meane hille a quarter of a mile
-from the Severn Se.” This castle, partly Norman and partly Tudor, has
-been inhabited ever since the Norman conquest of Glamorgan; and so, as
-“the parkes booth and the castell long to ... a gentilman of very fair
-landes in that countery,” we can see no more than a glimpse of towers
-above the trees. But we pass close to the churchyard, and there we may
-see the very beautiful and uninjured Celtic cross.
-
-From St. Donat’s we may rejoin the main road at Bridgend; but in this
-country, where good accommodation is not always to be found, it is
-well to know that there is a very nice modern hotel at Southerndown,
-with the Channel and the Exmoor coast in front of it and the trees
-and Castle of Dunraven near at hand. The actual building of Dunraven
-is new, but a castle has stood on the same spot for many generations,
-through many tragedies. In Henry VIII.’s reign the lord of Dunraven,
-Boteler, or Butler, lost all his children but one on the same day. He
-saw them die, perhaps, for the windows of his castle looked out across
-the waters that drowned them. Only one girl was left, and through her
-Dunraven passed to the Vaughans, who do not always seem to have made
-a good use of its position. For in Tenby Church lies the dust of a
-certain Walter of that house, who figures darkly in one of those moral
-tales--one might almost call them tracts--of which one occasionally
-hears in actual life. In Walter’s day, which was also the day of Queen
-Mary, these shores of Dunraven twinkled with treacherous lights, which
-lured unwary ships to the shore, causing their complete destruction and
-the great enrichment of the lord of the manor. At last, after years of
-this villainy, he was waiting one night for the fruits of his labours,
-waiting while the doomed ship was shaken to pieces and the bodies of
-her crew were one by one washed ashore. The last body that came was
-that of his own sailor-son.
-
-Whether we approach Bridgend from Llantwit or from Southerndown, we
-shall see on our right the embattled tower of Ewenny among the trees.
-The restored conventual buildings of this very ancient Benedictine
-Priory are now a private house, but by leaving the high-road we may
-pass the fortified gateway that once stood between the monks and their
-enemies. There is no finer example, I believe, of a monastery that is
-also a castle, and no doubt it is partly owing to the strength of its
-defences that the Priory of Ewenny still stands in its original Norman
-austerity, not as a picturesque ruin, but as a parish church. With the
-exception of one or two Tudor windows, it is pure Norman throughout,
-very simple, very dignified; and it is still divided, according to
-ancient custom, into two separate churches that were used respectively
-by the monastery and the parish at large. The founder, whose beautiful
-tomb is wonderfully well preserved, was Maurice de Londres, whose name
-we shall meet again in a less amiable connection at Kidwelly. A great
-deal has been done in the way of restoring and preserving Ewenny by
-its owners, the ancient lords of Coity, whose great castle lies in
-ruins a few miles away. The Norman marchers of their house, it is said,
-set out to win the lands of Coity by force of arms, but seeing the
-fair daughter of the Welshman who owned them, he was himself won, and
-never a blow was struck, for Coity became his by marriage. How much of
-this story is true I do not know, but it is certainly true that his
-descendants have lived within a few miles of the spot from that day to
-this.
-
-At Bridgend we rejoin the road that we left so reluctantly at
-Cowbridge, and soon, on the right, we pass the hills of Margam, at
-whose foot are the fragments of a famous Cistercian abbey, more
-celebrated, we are told, for its charitable deeds than any of that
-Order in Wales; while on the left there stretch between us and the
-sea the dreary sands that long ago buried--“shokid and devourid”--the
-castle and lands of Kenfig. The hills, cleft here and there with deep
-wooded valleys, are every moment drawing nearer; a strip of glittering
-sea appears beyond the sands, and beyond that again are the Mumbles.
-For a little time the masts of Aberavon rise picturesquely on the
-skyline, but they are too soon replaced by the chimneys of Briton
-Ferry.
-
-[Illustration: EWENNY PRIORY.]
-
-[Illustration: NEATH ABBEY.]
-
-It was here that the travellers of old days used to ford the river
-Neath. It was a dangerous ford, famous for its quicksands. Wherefore
-a certain twelfth-century bishop of St. David’s, being of a prudent
-temperament and desirous to cross, selected one of his minor clergy to
-ford the river before him, a “chaplain of those parts,” who had lately
-incurred the bishop’s displeasure, and had been suspended. The chaplain
-meekly consented; took the bishop’s best horse for the purpose; crossed
-in safety, and forthwith rode away. And it was only when the bishop
-restored the cure that the chaplain restored the horse.
-
-This pleasant little story, recalled by the name of the ugly smoky town
-of Briton Ferry, will help us through the dismal streets that lead to
-Neath.
-
-Neath itself is not an attractive town. Its abbey to Leland “semid the
-fairest abbay in al Wales.” To-day it is perhaps the most pathetic.
-During its last and most splendid days a Welsh bard sang of it and
-of the monks who lived in it; sang of its towers and cloisters, and
-coloured windows and princely shields; of its columns of blue marble
-and of the painted archangels on its roof. It was just at this time
-that it seemed to Leland so fair, that is to say just before Leland’s
-employer, Henry VIII., silenced the “peaceful songs of praise” of its
-white monks for ever. Even now we can guess at its past splendour, for
-though the blue marble and the archangels are gone, the crypt still has
-its vaulted roof, and through the heavy ivy there are fragments visible
-of the gleaming white stone with which it was once faced. It stands,
-unspeakably desolate, on the low, squalid outskirts of the town, amid a
-waste of scrap-iron and nettles and rubbish; but when Edward II. came
-to beg for a night’s lodging under its roof, when Neath was little more
-than a village and a castle, and there were no shunting, shrieking
-trains between the abbey and the hills, this must indeed have seemed a
-beautiful refuge for a tired, hunted king.
-
-For close behind the abbey the hills begin to rise, and through them
-the river Neath cleaves its way to the sea in a valley that will lead
-us, if we follow it, to extremely desirable things. Ultimately the road
-will lead us to Brecon, by no means to be despised in itself, but it
-is rather for the sake of the miles of moorland that lie between that
-we must here strike up into the hills in a way that may seem eccentric
-till we know what they are like.
-
-The Vale of Neath itself is famous for its lovely scenery, its woods
-and mountains and river. The road is practically level as far as
-Glyn-Neath, where, if the day is young, and the mood enterprising, we
-may, instead of keeping to our rightful road, diverge for a mile or
-so to Pont Neath Fechan. Thence the active-minded and able-bodied may
-visit a series of very pretty waterfalls on the river Mellte. This
-entails a considerable walk of a rough kind, but it also gives one an
-excuse for exploring a little more of this lovely moorland country: for
-the best way to approach the falls is to drive up for two miles into
-the hills and so reach the river from above.
-
-But probably the most usual course is, at Glyn-Neath, to turn
-towards Hirwain. It is after this point that the really distinctive
-features of this run become apparent, the features that make the road
-essentially one for motorists; for no railway crosses these hills,
-and if there be strong-limbed bicyclists who do, they cannot often
-be women, I think. For the road that seems to the engine of a car to
-be merely gently undulating, is really climbing steadily upwards for
-miles. Gradually the scene becomes wilder and wilder, more and more
-desolate, till at last we are spinning over a moor as wide as the eye
-can see, on a road that winds visibly before us far away into the
-distance. Range beyond range, the hills completely encircle us: stern,
-bare hills with rugged outlines, and never a tree to soften them; and
-in the foreground great sweeping curves covered with short grass and
-here and there a glowing patch of heather. Then, when the summit is
-reached, and Cardiff waterworks are passed, begins the descent of nine
-miles on a perfect surface, close under the shoulder of the Brecon
-Beacons. I think this gentle descent is one of the most perfect runs,
-from a motoring point of view, that I have ever enjoyed; and if, as is
-likely, there is a touch of evening softness over the great hills, few
-people will regret having forsaken their direct westward road for the
-sake of this drive. Close under the Beacons lies Brecon.
-
-A prodigious amount of fighting has raged round this peaceful-looking
-little town. It was not without bloodshed that Brychan the Irishman,
-in the fifth century, made this country his own with complete
-thoroughness, supplying it not only with a new name but with a new
-population (for he is said to have had forty-nine children); and Brecon
-was one of the many places that were attacked and overcome by the
-army of Alfred’s warlike daughter Ethelfleda; and truly there was no
-lack of fighting in the days of the Normans, the Neuf-Marché, and the
-de Braose. It was Bernard de Neuf-Marché, or Newmarch, who built the
-castle, once “very large, strong, and wele mainteynid,” but now only a
-remnant, a bit of battlemented wall and a tower, which passed through
-many stormy experiences before it came to the strangest end to which,
-surely, a castle was ever brought. For it was the inhabitants of Brecon
-themselves who, feeling that they had figured sufficiently in the
-annals of their country, demolished their own castle. It was during the
-Civil War, and a siege seemed imminent. The simplest way of avoiding
-this was to remove the castle.
-
-Brecon might well be tired of fighting. Newmarch had fortified it
-well, with walls and gates and the “keepe of the castel very large and
-faire,” but it required all its defences and more, for a border castle
-was never safe. From the family of Newmarch it passed to that of de
-Braose, and they lost it again, not by the sword but by the seditious
-spirit and shrewd tongue of a woman. Matilda de St. Valerie, the wife
-of William de Braose, “uttered reproachful language against King John,”
-which though perfectly just, was rash. She lost not only her castle,
-but her husband and finally her life, for Brecon became Crown property;
-de Braose, after slaughtering the King’s garrison, fled to Ireland;
-and Matilda was starved to death in prison.
-
-[Illustration: BRECON.]
-
-[Illustration: GATEWAY KIDWELLY CASTLE.]
-
-If we spend a night in Brecon we may sit in the pretty garden of
-the hotel under the shadow of the last remaining wall of Newmarch’s
-castle. Opposite us, filling almost the whole landscape, are the solemn
-Beacons; just below us is the Usk and its picturesque bridge.
-
-We must cross that bridge to reach Carmarthen; and following the
-course of the Usk, pass through Trecastle, where the scenery becomes
-strikingly beautiful as the road cleaves a narrow gorge and then runs
-gently down for miles between wooded hills. At Llandovery we enter the
-valley of the Towy.
-
-There is nothing to detain us at Llandovery; but as the gay flowers of
-the Castle Inn catch our eye in passing we may remember that George
-Borrow once spent a night there; and the remains of the castle hard by
-may perhaps call to mind the great chieftain Griffith ap Nicholas, who
-was lord of Dynevor and Kilgerran as well as of Llandovery and many
-another castle. He was also a Justice of the Peace, and a harbourer of
-thieves; a _protégé_ of the House of Lancaster who yet died in fighting
-for the house of York at Mortimer’s Cross: not a very conventional
-person, in short.
-
-We leave the fragments of his castle on our left, and, on a practically
-level road, follow the slow-flowing Towy through Llangadoch to
-Llandeilo. This pretty little place, where there is a really nice inn,
-was once dignified with the name of Llandeilo Vawr, or the Great;
-probably because of its close proximity to the great castle of Dynevor.
-If we pause for a moment on the bridge that here crosses the Towy we
-shall see reflected in the river a thickly wooded bluff. Among these
-trees are the ruins of Dynevor, perhaps the most important stronghold
-of the princes of South Wales. It was in the ninth century that Roderic
-the Great built the first castle here, and from that day forward till
-Roderic’s fortress had for many years been replaced by a Norman one,
-Dynevor passed from hand to hand, from Welsh to English and from
-English to Welsh, and from one turbulent chieftain to another. It
-seems to have been regarded more or less as the key to South Wales;
-for on one occasion Henry II. sent a special spy to inquire into the
-strength of Dynevor and the general character of the country. This
-artless knight asked his way of a Welsh dean, and was, as he might
-have expected, led by a route so wild, so rough, and so extremely
-circuitous that the castle seemed to be practically inaccessible. By
-way of heightening the effect this humorous divine paused at intervals
-to satisfy his hunger with handfuls of grass. It was the custom in
-that poor country, he said. The knight returned to Henry with the
-report that the country round Dynevor was “uninhabitable, vile, and
-inaccessible, only affording food to a beastly nation, living like
-brutes.”
-
-Within a few miles of Dynevor there is another castle that looks as if
-it might well have been inaccessible--Cerrig Cennen. It is worth while
-to drive a few miles out of our way to see this circlet of towers on
-its pale grey crag, dominating the whole landscape of rounded hills.
-It is best to approach it by Derwydd Station, partly because the more
-direct route leads over a long and precipitous hill, and partly because
-from this side one’s first view of the old fortress is more striking.
-I think there is little to be gained by trying to drive close to the
-actual ruins: the impressive effect is in the distant outline of this
-strange and sudden crag, on which, it is said, a Knight of the Round
-Table built his fortress before the Norman of later days made it his
-stronghold.
-
-From Llandeilo to Carmarthen we have a choice of roads. The upper one
-is perhaps slightly the faster of the two, but from the lower there
-is a better view of Dynevor, and Dryslwyn Castle, and Abergwili, the
-palace of the bishops of St. David’s. In Carmarthen itself there are
-few relics left of a history that begins in the days of the Romans
-and has been stormy to a most unusual degree; so stormy, indeed, that
-one marvels the place exists at all. The wicked Vortigern, King of
-Britain in the fifth century, is said to have built a castle here,
-to defend himself against a too persistent saint who was trying,
-quite in vain, to turn him from the many errors of his ways. He had
-first taken refuge at Rhayader, but, says Nennius the historian, “St.
-Germanus followed him with all the British clergy, and upon a rock
-prayed for his sins during 40 days and 40 nights.” So the worried King
-fled here to Carmarthen and built a castle in which to hide. But, says
-the story, “the saint as usual followed him there and with his clergy
-fasted and prayed ... and on the third night a fire fell suddenly
-from heaven and totally burnt the castle.” How many times since then
-Carmarthen has been burnt to the ground and besieged and plundered I
-do not know, but one or other of these incidents is casually recorded
-on nearly every page of the History of Wales. But Carmarthen, like
-hope, “springs eternal.” Among the many who burnt it is Owen Glyndwr,
-who at the very time that the foolish legend describes him as sitting
-in a tree watching the Battle of Shrewsbury was really occupied,
-not only in destroying this town, but also, as though influenced by
-the reputed birthplace of Merlin, in having his fortune told by a
-soothsayer brought from Gower for the purpose. But though this brave
-fortune-teller prophesied evil things they were not fulfilled. Owen had
-still many successes before him, and his dealings with this ill-fated
-town of Carmarthen made a great sensation. There is an agitated letter
-still existing which the Archdeacon of Hereford, the “lowly creature,”
-as he signed himself, of Henry IV., wrote in “haste, great haste,” to
-implore that King for help. “And note,” he adds in a postscript, “on
-Friday last Kemerdyn town is taken and burnt, and the castle yielded
-... and slain of the town of Kemerdyn more than L persons. Written in
-right haste on Sunday; and I cry your mercy and put me in your high
-grace that I write so shortly; for by my troth that I owe to you, it
-is needful.” The exciting effect of Owen’s presence, we see, was of
-somewhat wide radius. Yet even Owen could not suppress Carmarthen
-for more than a short time. Leland tells us of two “reparations done
-on the castel,” and in his day, he says, it was “veri fair and doble
-waullid.” Even now there is some of it left, but unless we exceed the
-speed-limit and refuse to pay the fine we shall probably not see it, as
-it has been made into a prison.
-
-But even the modern streets that have risen from so many ashes are
-not without their own memories of the great. They were once lined
-with shouting, excited crowds, gathered from all the country round
-to see Nelson drive through the town: and through them passed the
-strange funeral procession of Richard Steele, who was carried by night,
-attended by twenty-five torch-bearers, to his grave in St. Peter’s
-Church. Above it a modern brass has been placed of late years, but
-for long the grave was, at his own dying request, left nameless. “I
-shall be remembered by posterity,” he said. There are other monuments
-worth seeing in St. Peter’s Church: the tomb of Sir Rhys ap Thomas, to
-whose efforts Henry VII. owed much in his quest for the crown; and a
-mural tablet of the seventeenth century, to “virtuous Anne, the lady
-Vaughan,” who was, we learn, “the choice elixir of mortalitie.”
-
-From Carmarthen we must certainly not neglect to visit Kidweli, ten
-miles away near the sea, for there we shall find much of that visible
-romance that has, by storm and stress, been battered out of the
-county town. Kidweli once had walls, and three gates, and a priory of
-Black Monks, as well as the castle that still stands above the river
-Gwendraeth in all its imposing simplicity. The round towers and the
-curtain-wall and the great gateway have a very distinctly Edwardian
-character, but Caradoc of Llancarvan says there was a castle built
-here quite at the end of the twelfth century by Rhys ap Griffith,
-that great prince of South Wales who is known in Welsh history as The
-Lord Rhys; and even in those destructive days a hundred years was a
-short time for a castle to last. Probably Rhys built it and Edward
-repaired it, giving it the special character of his own work, but not
-entirely wiping out the work of Rhys. In this way we may account for
-the name of Gwenllian’s Tower, for Rhys had a much-loved daughter
-Gwenllian, “a woman of such incomparable beauty, and exceeding in all
-feminine qualifications, that she was accounted the fairest and best
-accomplished lady in all the country.” She had fine traditions behind
-her, but they were not so much “feminine” as warlike; for her father
-Rhys was “the protection of his country, the splendour of arms, the
-arm of power,” and her great uncle was the valiant Owen Gwynedd, and
-her grandmother was that gallant lady after whom she was doubtless
-named, Gwenllian the wife of Griffith. It was quite near Kidweli that
-this other Gwenllian died. In her husband’s absence she led his men
-to battle against the Norman invader, Maurice de Londres, whose grave
-we saw in his priory-church of Ewenny. Her forces were defeated, and
-she herself, by order of de Londres, was beheaded there and then. Her
-brother Owen Gwynedd, however, was still alive, and he saw to it that
-the reckoning was heavy.
-
-The road from Carmarthen to Tenby lies at first through rather dull
-country, but after a time passes between extremely pretty wooded hills.
-Presently we catch sight of the sea shining at the end of a deep
-valley, and after this a delightful run on a downward gradient carries
-us within sight of Tenby, the most charming of watering-places. Now,
-it is not altogether an artificial classification if we divide the
-civilised world into two parties: those who delight in watering-places
-and those who flee from them. For this taste or distaste is really,
-more or less, an indication of temperament, and at the end of half an
-hour one could usually guess correctly in which of the two classes
-to place a new acquaintance. But I really defy any one to dislike
-Tenby. There is something endearing about it. From the roadside the
-cliffs drop steeply to the sands below--very yellow sands sweeping
-in long curves to the edge of a brilliantly green sea, while beyond
-them the long headlands stretch one behind the other, mere blurs of
-purple or misty blue. On the right the remnant of the castle stands
-upon a rock, and below it there juts into the sea a picturesque little
-pier, entirely for use, and innocent of pavilion or bandstand. Here
-the innumerable trawlers take shelter, till in the early morning they
-unfurl their crimson or brown sails, and one by one glide out into
-the bay--a brave sight, and one that calls to mind the early name of
-this place, Dynbych-y-Pysgod, the Little Town of Fish.
-
-[Illustration: GOSCAP ROCK, TENBY.]
-
-[Illustration: MANORBIER CASTLE, NEAR TENBY.]
-
-There is something almost incongruous in the thought of the many sieges
-that this quiet, sunny town has suffered. From very early days it
-played an active part in the history of this strange English corner
-of Wales, and if its walls and gateways are still standing to add to
-its beauty, this is not for want of use, but because their uses were
-so constant that they were kept in good order. Of the castle, indeed,
-little enough remains: a ruined tower, an archway, and a fragment of
-wall are all that is left on the rock that juts out so picturesquely
-into the green sea.
-
-But if the shrewd blows of several centuries have left us little of
-Tenby Castle, it is far otherwise with the splendid walls and towers
-of Manorbier, which stand close above the sea a few miles further
-along the same coast. To see Manorbier at its best one should approach
-it from the road called the Ridgeway, and this route, too, has the
-advantage of commanding, here and there, some very lovely views of the
-coast, of Lydstep and Caldey Island. It is well to know that on Sunday
-no strangers are admitted within the gate of Manorbier.
-
-It stands, as Leland says, betwixt two “hillettes, between the wich the
-Severn Se gulfith in”--a fine setting for its battlemented walls and
-towers, the “turrets and bulwarks” of which Giraldus proudly speaks.
-That most delightful chronicler declares this to be the pleasantest
-spot in Wales, and then half apologises for his enthusiasm over this
-“his native soil, his genial territory.” We may forgive him for his
-love of the place, even if we think he goes a little too far, for this
-Gerald de Berri the Norman, who oddly enough has been known to all
-who have come after him as Giraldus the Welshman, was born here at
-Manorbier; and down there on the shore are the sands where he played as
-a child, building, we are told, not castles, but always churches and
-abbeys.
-
-Strange enough this belligerent-looking building seems to have no
-history. It has, apparently, led an entirely domestic life. We hear
-of mills and ponds, of parks and dovecots in connection with it, but
-of siege and bloodshed not a word. The great, grim walls and bastions,
-however, must have added greatly to the peace and comfort of the Norman
-barons who lived behind them, and they certainly add very much to our
-pleasure.
-
-Climbing again to the Ridgeway we turn to the left, with a view to
-seeing Lamphey, Pembroke, and the Stack Rocks before, following in the
-footsteps of many a pilgrim, we visit the shrine of St. David.
-
-Lamphey Palace was for several centuries one of the dwellings of the
-Bishop of St. David’s; and a good deal of it was built by Bishop
-Gower, whose “mason’s mark,” so to speak, is the arcaded parapet so
-conspicuous here and at his cathedral city. Bishop Gower seems to have
-been the benefactor of this see, as Bishop Barlow was its evil genius.
-It was owing to the latter that Lamphey passed to the Crown, and
-thence to the house of Devereux; and so it came to pass that in this
-sequestered corner Robert, Earl of Essex, passed the early years of
-a life that was destined to be anything but sheltered, and played his
-childish games with no thought of a capricious queen or of Tower Hill.
-And with him, no doubt, played his sister Penelope, whom the pen of Sir
-Philip Sidney has made more familiar to us as “Stella.”
-
-From Lamphey two miles of level road will take us to Pembroke, and
-to the castle that is perhaps the most impressive in all this land
-of relics, where the castles are so strangely thick upon the ground.
-The great walls rise upon a rock whose base is lapped by the waters
-of Milford Haven; in the centre stands the mighty double keep, and
-round it is a ring of bastions; on the town side is the entrance-gate,
-flanked by massive towers. There is something peculiarly imposing
-about this gateway, whose implacable strength seems all the more
-uncompromising from its being unsoftened by ivy and very little
-discoloured by time, though its fine effect is, of course, cruelly
-marred by the lawn-tennis nets that seem so often to be regarded as
-pleasing and appropriate additions to mediæval castles. Pembroke,
-unlike Manorbier, is full of history; there has been no lack of sieges
-here. Even before the building of this castle there were stirring
-doings round this rock: fierce attacks and wily stratagems, not
-unmixed, some say, with romance. There was a “slender fortress” here,
-built by Arnulph de Montgomery of stakes and turf--a poor defence one
-would have thought, but apparently sufficient to bear a good deal under
-the guardianship of that “worthy and discreet” constable, Gerald de
-Windsor, grandfather of our Giraldus. He showed his discretion on one
-occasion, when the stakes and turf were besieged by the Welsh, and his
-garrison was extremely short of food, by cutting up the last few beasts
-that remained to them, and throwing the pieces to the enemy. In our day
-this would be described, not as discretion, but as “bluff,” and it was
-as successful as that quality so often is. It is said by some that it
-was this same Gerald who built the existing castle, but there seems to
-be a good deal of uncertainty on the subject; and even more uncertainty
-as to which castle it was from which Gerald’s wife Nest, who was less
-discreet, apparently, than her husband, was carried off by a Welsh
-prince, not without encouragement from the lady. But when one hears
-that the discreet Gerald escaped on this occasion by creeping down a
-drain-pipe, one feels that there was some excuse after all for Nest.
-But these are mere traditions. What is very certain is that one of the
-stern entrance-towers was the birthplace of Henry VII., who lived here
-with his mother through the early years of his life, and after his
-exile in Brittany landed only a few miles away at Dale, where he won
-the Welsh at once to his cause by unfurling the Red Dragon of Uther.
-When Leland was here he was shown the room in which Henry was born, and
-in it “a chymmeney new made with the armes and badges of King Henri the
-VII.”; but this fireplace must have vanished long ago, for even the
-local guide-books do not profess to know the room of Henry’s birth.
-
-[Illustration: ENTRANCE TOWER, PEMBROKE CASTLE.]
-
-[Illustration: PEMBROKE COAST.]
-
-There was a memorable siege of Pembroke in the Civil War--memorable
-not only because of its importance, but because the leaders of the
-Royalist garrison were renegade Roundheads. Cromwell’s guns were lying
-useless in the sand, for the ship that carried them had run aground;
-but undismayed he determined to starve the garrison out. “Here is a
-very desperate enemy,” he wrote to Fairfax, “who being put out of all
-hope of mercy, are resolved to endure to the uttermost extremity, being
-very many of them gentlemen of quality and thoroughly resolved.” They
-yielded at last, and “Drunken Colonel Payer,” as Carlyle calls the
-renegade, “full of brandy and Presbyterian texts of Scripture,” being
-indeed out of all hope of mercy, was shot at Covent Garden. Beyond
-hope of mercy, too, was the traitor who, by betraying the source of
-the castle’s water-supply to Cromwell, was the cause of the surrender.
-Cromwell, with characteristic promptitude, cut the drain-pipes and
-hanged his informant on the spot; and not many years ago some workmen
-found the broken pipes, and close beside them some human bones.
-
-About eight miles beyond Pembroke are the Stack Rocks. The road is
-hilly and the gates across it are exasperatingly numerous; but these
-are but small discomforts, and the reward is very great. It is almost
-suddenly that one finds oneself on the very edge of the stupendous
-cliffs that form the southern coast of Pembrokeshire--an edge that is
-almost mathematically a right angle, so sheer is the drop, so level is
-the plateau above. This stern, impregnable coast has the impressiveness
-that extreme simplicity on a large scale always has: it has the
-directness of Early Norman architecture. There is not an unnecessary
-line, so to speak, not the least attempt at ornament; and the effect
-is to take away one’s breath. A few yards from the cliff are the great
-pillars known as the Stack Rocks, obviously separated from the mainland
-by the patient efforts of the sea and air--examples of the survival of
-the fittest. Their tall, gaunt outlines, and the sea-gulls that circle
-round them, add much to this strange scene; but our real reward for
-opening all those gates lies, not in the actual Stack Rocks themselves,
-but in the long curves of the coast-line, the massive cliffs, the
-green, transparent sea that swirls about their base.
-
-It is necessary to pass through Pembroke on the return journey, but we
-must leave it by the Carmarthen road, since to reach Haverfordwest we
-have to avoid all the long ramifications of Milford Haven. Soon we turn
-sharply to the left and enter the tiny village of Carew, where, close
-beside the roadway, stands one of the finest Celtic crosses in Wales,
-richly carved with one of those interlaced designs that the Welsh in
-very early days copied from the Irish. And not very far away is another
-of those splendid castles that were, to a Norman baron in Wales, among
-the bare necessities of life--the half Norman, half Tudor castle of
-Carew, or Caer-wy (the Fort on the Water), whence the pronunciation
-_Carey_. The east front, the entrance-gate and bastions are, I believe,
-the work of Gerard de Windsor, constable of Pembroke, and are plainly
-Edwardian in character; but the north front, with its famous mullioned
-windows, was added by Sir Rhys ap Thomas, the energetic supporter of
-Henry VII., whose tomb we saw at Carmarthen; while the eastern side,
-with the great banqueting-hall and the lovely arch that leads to it,
-was contributed by Sir John Perrot, of Elizabethan days. This Sir
-John Perrot was one of the worst of the Irish Lords Deputy, but it
-was not on this account, very certainly, that he was suddenly called
-away from his building operations at Carew and bestowed in the Tower
-of London. The builders, delivered from his vigilant eye, did their
-work so perfunctorily that it is now in a more dilapidated condition
-than the sturdy defences of the Norman part of the castle.[12] But
-perhaps the old splendour of Carew is represented and recalled best
-of all by the beautiful rooms on the northern side, whose thresholds
-have been trodden by so many mailed feet, so many dainty silken shoes;
-for the hospitalities of Carew, at all events in the days of Sir Rhys
-ap Thomas, were carried out on a large scale. Henry of Richmond, not
-yet Henry of England, was entertained here on his way to Bosworth, and
-mounted the stairs to the room that displays his arms upon a shield,
-only a little time before he mounted the steps of the throne. This
-last event was celebrated here in a magnificent pageant, a medley of
-feasts and tournaments and sermons, at which a thousand guests filled
-these weed-grown rooms with all the glitter and colour of an age that
-loved fine clothes. Sir Rhys himself figured on the occasion in “a
-fine gilt armour,” and was attended by “two hundred tall men in blewe
-coats.” The banqueting-hall on the east side was not then in existence,
-but there was nevertheless “a goodlie spaciouse roome richlie hanged
-with clothe of arras and tapestrie” in which “the bettermost sort”
-were entertained, a cross table being laid at one end for the King who
-was so many miles away. And yet, in spite of these rash distinctions
-among the guests, we are assured by the chronicler that “one thing is
-noteworthy, that for the space of five dayes among a thousand people
-there was not one quarrell, crosse word, or unkind looke that happened
-betweene them.” It seems almost unnecessary that the bishop, before
-they parted, should have “bestowed a sermon upon them.”
-
-Fifteen miles of a hilly road lie between Carew and Haverfordwest,
-a town that was important enough in Edward IV.’s day to be made a
-separate county. It was the chief town and stronghold of the Flemish
-colony, and the dominating position of the castle bears witness to its
-former usefulness; while its present mission as a gaol does nothing to
-detract from its grim appearance.
-
-It was outside the embattled walls of Haverfordwest that Glyndwr first
-met his French allies, who had landed in Milford Haven from their
-hundred and forty ships. There were four or five thousand of them, very
-gay in their apparel, very rich in their accoutrements, and here before
-the hill of Haverfordwest they must have been an encouraging sight for
-a man whose luck was beginning to turn. But this stern castle withstood
-them, none the less, and though they burnt the town, they were obliged
-to retire. In the Civil War the Royalist garrison adopted a simple plan
-for saving themselves from the discomforts of a siege. Hearing that
-the enemy was approaching, it seemed to them that the best way to avoid
-unpleasantness would be to leave the place vacant, which they did with
-all possible despatch.
-
-[Illustration: CAREW CASTLE.]
-
-[Illustration: ST. DAVID’S CATHEDRAL AND RUINS OF THE BISHOP’S PALACE.]
-
-There are a good many things that we may think of in this town: those
-“people brave and robust,” as Giraldus calls the Flemings whom Henry I.
-established here; poor Richard II., who gave them their charter; Edward
-IV., who gave them a high sheriff; the sieges of centuries; the gay
-French army; but I, when I climb the steep streets of Haverfordwest,
-long most of all to know the spot on which the Crusades were preached
-to “a people well versed in commerce and woollen manufactories.”
-“It appeared wonderful and miraculous,” says the historian, with no
-consciousness that he is saying anything humorous, “that although
-the archdeacon addressed them both in the Latin and French tongues,
-those persons who understood neither of those languages were equally
-affected, and flocked in great numbers to the cross.”
-
-In the days when people journeyed to St. David’s for the good of their
-souls it was considered that two pilgrimages to that shrine secured
-as many spiritual advantages as one pilgrimage to Rome. It seems hard
-that those who now approach St. David’s by train should not derive some
-solid benefit of this kind, for the penance must really be very great,
-since Haverfordwest is the nearest station, and the road between the
-two places is known as “sixteen miles and seventeen hills.” One passes
-these sad pilgrims, packed very closely in hired wagonettes behind
-still sadder horses, and one hopes that good may accrue to their souls,
-since surely this must be very bad for their bodies. Even bicyclists,
-our brethren of the road, must find these seventeen hills no easy task.
-The pilgrimage to St. David’s is pre-eminently one for motorists.
-
-The surface, on the whole, is good, and near the coast the scenery
-is fine. As the sea comes into sight on our left the rather dull,
-flat landscape to the right is enlivened by the curiously sudden crag
-on which stand the remains of Roche Castle, the birthplace of Lucy
-Walters, the Duke of Monmouth’s mother. After a time the road dips
-suddenly to the shore at Newgale, where the sands stretch for two miles
-between low headlands, and where long ago the sea once receded and
-showed the blackened stumps of a huge submerged forest. Between this
-and St. David’s are “divers other little creekittes,” says Leland, who
-has a passion for diminutives of an original kind; and of them all
-none is so charming as little Solva where the narrow creek runs up
-far into the land, and a picturesque village climbs the hill, and the
-“fischerbotes” take refuge now as they did in the sixteenth century,
-and probably long before it.
-
-A few minutes later appear the outskirts of the strangely squalid
-village that is the cathedral city of St. David’s. The straggling,
-ugly street gives little promise of reward for our pilgrimage. Then
-suddenly we are at the edge of a hill, and we look down into the little
-dell that holds, perhaps, as much beauty and history and legend as any
-spot of its size in our country: the cathedral itself, very plain and
-built of a strange purple stone; close beside it the ruins of St.
-Mary’s College, founded by John of Gaunt and his wife; and beyond it
-the far greater ruins of Bishop Gower’s very beautiful palace, with
-its great rose-window and the arcaded parapet that characterises the
-bishop’s buildings. And to the seeing eye this little hollow contains
-far more than these mere stones: it is filled with countless memories
-of saints, and those who were anything but saints; it is crossed by a
-long procession of pilgrims; William I., who came to worship before St.
-David’s shrine and in some sort apologise, as it were, for conquering
-the country--an apology that was rather premature; Edward I. and his
-faithful Eleanor, on the same errand, with more reason; William Rufus,
-with little interest in saints or shrines; Henry II., “habited like a
-pilgrim, and leaning on a staff,” and met at the gate by a long and
-solemn procession. Of all these, Edward was the only one who worshipped
-in this very building, for it is the fourth that has stood on this spot
-and was raised just after Henry II.’s visit. Much restoration has given
-it the look of a new building, as seen from the outside. Perhaps
-this is why, as one passes through the doorway, one is inclined to hold
-one’s breath from sheer surprise; for St. David’s Cathedral is “all
-glorious within,” and there is nothing outside to prepare one for the
-Norman arches with their varied and rich ornament, for the splendour
-of the fifteenth-century roof, and of the rood-screen that Gower built
-and is buried in. For nearly two hundred years the nave was covered
-with whitewash, and indeed it has narrowly escaped worse things at the
-hands of evil men, for Bishop Barlow, of whom we heard at Lamphey, and
-heard nothing good, was minded to strip the roof of its lead, and was
-only stopped in this enterprise by Henry VIII. It was this same bishop
-who stripped the roof of Gower’s palace and so led to its decay; and
-being, it seems, a veritable _esprit fort_, he not only was the first
-Protestant bishop who took advantage of the permission to marry, but
-he also took advantage of the dissolution of nunneries and married an
-abbess. Their five daughters, it is said, all married bishops. Barlow
-positively hated St. David’s. Why, he asked, should money be spent
-on these ruinous buildings “to nourish clattering conventicles of
-barbarous rural persons”? Why not move the see to Carmarthen, since
-St. David’s was “in such a desolate angle, and in so rare a frequented
-place, except of vagabond pilgrims”? The Saint himself was merely “an
-antique gargle of idolatry.” In short, the lead of the roof was the
-only valuable thing here.
-
-[Illustration: ST. MARY’S COLLEGE, ST. DAVID’S.]
-
-[Illustration: ST. DAVID’S CATHEDRAL, INTERIOR.]
-
-Now Henry VIII., as we well know, had little enough respect for the
-shrines of the saints or for the beauties of architecture, but he
-had a great respect for the bones of his own grandfather--and these
-lay here. So Barlow had to hold his hand; and we, as we stand in the
-presbytery of the cathedral beside Edmund Tudor’s tomb, must remember
-all we owe to it. Nor is his the only notable tomb in this place; for
-here is the simple shrine before which so many kings, such countless
-pilgrims, have knelt, and there is the recumbent figure that some say
-is the Lord Rhys, the son of the brave Gwenllian, the greatest of the
-princes of South Wales, of whom it was said that “his prowesse passed
-his manners, his wytte passed his prowesse, his fayre speeche passed
-his wytte, his good thewes passed his fayre speeche.” Of the grave of
-Giraldus we must not be too sure, for though it is pointed out to us
-there has been much discussion with regard to it. Yet somewhere in this
-cathedral his dust lies we know.
-
-Just beyond St. David’s is the sea. And here too we must go, and, if
-possible, see the sun setting behind that western horizon where the
-hills of Holy Ireland are said to be sometimes visible. St. Patrick
-saw them, says the legend, as he sat on this shore, and vowed to
-give his life to the conversion of that land. He kept his vow; but
-William Rufus, who stood here with very different intentions, was less
-successful. As he looked across the sea to Ireland, he said, “I will
-summon hither all the ships of my realm, and with them make a bridge to
-attack that country.” His words were reported to Murchard, Prince of
-Leinster, who, says the story, paused awhile, and answered, “Did the
-King add to this mighty threat, If God please?” and being informed that
-he had made no mention of God in his speech, he replied, “I fear not
-his coming.”
-
-The legend that connects St. Patrick with this shore is extremely
-circumstantial, but whether it has the least foundation in truth I do
-not know. In the Rosy Valley, says the story, he built a college, where
-he taught both boys and girls, and trained missionaries who afterwards
-became Irish saints. One of the girls was Nôn, the mother of St. David,
-and it was near Porth Clais that that saint was born. And when he was
-old enough the boy too became a pupil of St. Patrick; and so, when
-his college days at Llantwit were over, and he was made “Archbishop
-of Legions,” because “his life was a perfect example of that goodness
-which by his doctrine he taught,” he moved the see from Caerleon to
-Menevia for love of his master St. Patrick. In this way was fulfilled
-the prophesy of Merlin: “Menevia shall put on the pall of the City of
-Legions”; and from that time forward Menevia has been called after its
-first and most famous bishop, St. David.
-
-From this strange, remote land of dreams and legends and memories of
-early saints the transition to the world of modern progress is rather
-sudden; for only fifteen miles lie between the shrine of St. David and
-the new turbine steamers of Fishguard. We shall do well to choose the
-upper road, which runs for the most part through a bare, inhospitable
-land that is far more suggestive of the remoteness of the village-city
-than the most dramatic mountain pass could be. Here and there we have
-a fine glimpse of the coast, and there is a sudden softening in the
-scenery as we draw near Goodwick. Here, at one side of the pretty bay
-of Fishguard, are all the evidences of the new route to Ireland--the
-station, the hotel, and the steamers at the quay, while across the bay,
-beyond the long beach, the upper town of Fishguard appears above the
-headland. Here, at Fishguard, the French landed in 1797. Then, as they
-looked at those heights above the town, their hearts misgave them, for
-the hills were ominously streaked and patched with scarlet. It became
-plain to them that a very large force--a far larger force than they
-were prepared to meet--was waiting to descend upon them. And so it
-happened that their general, without loss of time, repaired to the
-Royal Oak Inn, where he signed his capitulation to Lord Cawdor. I do
-not know when, if ever, he found out that the masses of scarlet figures
-on the hills were not soldiers, but the enterprising matrons and maids
-of all the county round, who had come out in the red cloaks that were
-then part of the national dress, to see what was going forward.
-
-The lower town of Fishguard lies in a cleft between two steep hills,
-and its pretty little harbour has all the picturesqueness that quays
-and boats and rippling green water can give. The further hill of the
-two, which we must climb, is of a most amazing gradient--computed in
-contour-books as averaging 1 in 7, but certainly 1 in 5 in places.
-From the high ground to which it leads us, lying between Fishguard and
-Newport, there are glimpses from time to time of fine coast scenery,
-and beyond Newport the road lies through very pretty country, under
-the conspicuous peak of Carningly. In the churchyard at Nevern there
-is a beautiful Celtic cross, the cross of St. Brynach, an Irish
-contemporary of St. David. From this point the road gradually rises to
-a considerable height, and then runs down a long hill to Cardigan.
-
-Cardigan, once “the lock and key of all Wales,” gives us no hint of
-its former greatness. It appears an uninteresting little town till one
-realises that it is the Aberteifi whose castle was taken and retaken,
-burnt, and shattered, and built again, through all the stormiest years
-of Welsh history; captured by the men of the north from the men of
-the south; defended by both against the Anglo-Normans; attacked by
-the Flemings; at one time the court of Llewelyn, the greatest of the
-northern princes; and at another the court of Lord Rhys, the greatest
-of the southern princes. Here lived Griffith, the father of Rhys, “the
-light and the strength and the gentleness of the men of the south,”
-whose brave wife, Gwenllian, was killed by Maurice de Londres; and here
-he and Gwenllian’s brother, the great Owen Gwynedd, avenged her, when
-Cardigan bridge broke under the retreating Normans, and “the salt green
-wave of Teivy was clogged” with the bodies of the slain. And here the
-Lord Rhys held his famous revels, which included one of those mediæval
-Tournaments of Song with which Wagner has made us so familiar. The
-invitations were sent out in good time--a year and a day before the
-event--and many hundreds of English and Normans were bidden from “all
-Britain, Ireland, and the islands adjacent.” The historian goes on to
-tell us how “Rhys caused all the bards or poets throughout all Wales
-to come thither; and for a better diversion to the company he provided
-chairs to be set in the hall, in which the bards being seated, they
-were to answer each other in rhyme, and those that acquitted themselves
-most handsomely and overcame the rest, were promised great rewards and
-rich presents.” And the men of Gwynedd won the prize for poetry, but
-the men of the south were victorious in music.
-
-Such in the old days was Cardigan, where the tourist may pause for a
-mid-day chop or buy a picture postcard.
-
-Two miles above Cardigan, on a crag beside the Teify, are the ruined
-towers of Cilgerran, which have been very little concerned with
-history, though they have stood here since the days of Henry I. Their
-striking position above the wooded banks of the river, however, will
-repay us for a detour of a mile or two, and we can rejoin the main road
-at the beautiful bridge of Llechryd. Here, where the prevailing note
-of the landscape is peace, the gentle Teify, whose purling waters have
-so often run red, was once actually dammed--as on another occasion at
-Cardigan--by the bodies of the slain, when the princes of the south met
-the invading princes of Powys and overthrew them.
-
-From Llechryd we follow the Teify past Newcastle Emlyn; and thence, if
-we like, we may cross the moors to Lampeter; or, better still, we may
-go straight on through the Henllan woods to Llandyssil, a lovely little
-place where fishermen delight to dwell, and where in consequence there
-is a really charming little hotel. And if, as may well happen, there
-is no room for us there, we can after all go on our way to Lampeter,
-for there also there is quite a nice hotel, though of course it lacks
-the charm of the country garden and the rushing Teify. The moorland
-road between Llandyssil and Lampeter is in its way unique, for on both
-sides of it the hills are covered with a thick, short growth of gorse,
-a carpet of gold spread almost smoothly for miles.
-
-At Lampeter there is nothing to detain us but the important business
-of consulting maps. For here is the parting of the ways. If our object
-is merely to reach the English border, our best way perhaps is to
-aim at Builth. To do this we must strike across the hills through
-lovely scenery; past Pumpsaint, where George Borrow awoke to hear
-the murmuring of the Cothi; through Llandovery, where we have been
-before on the way to Carmarthen; and thence over a really fine pass to
-Llanwrtyd Wells. If, on the other hand, we are aiming at North Wales
-our obvious course is to strike across to Aberaeron, and thence follow
-the coast to Aberystwith and Barmouth. And if--and this is the course
-I strongly recommend--we intend to complete the circle, and end our
-little tour by running down the Wye Valley, then too we should make for
-Aberystwith, and, turning thence eastward, join the infant Wye on the
-slopes of Plynlimmon.
-
-[Illustration: KILGERRAN CASTLE, NEAR CARDIGAN.]
-
-[Illustration: THE WYE NEAR ITS SOURCE.]
-
-
-
-
-THE VALLEY OF THE WYE
-
-
-Those who have stout hearts and stout boots may, I believe, discover
-the actual source of the Wye among the rushes of Plynlimmon. Five
-miles of hard walking over rather dull downs will procure them the
-satisfaction of seeing the first gleams of the thin silver thread that
-is destined to grow into the most beautiful river of England. Most of
-us, however, will be content to meet the Wye for the first time when
-it is five miles old, so to speak, at the point where it touches the
-high-road from Aberystwith to Newtown. Even here it is a tiny stream,
-rushing lightheartedly down the hill over the rocks, unsobered as yet
-by the dignified reflections of Hereford and Tintern and Chepstow
-Castle.
-
-These slopes of Plynlimmon are not particularly inspiring, except when
-regarded as the cradle of the Wye, and of that greater river whose
-tributary she is, the Severn. It is true that the standard of Wales,
-with its red dragon, once floated victoriously on the side of this
-hill, and the short grass has been dyed with the blood of the Flemings,
-who mustered here to chastise that stout rebel, Owen Glyndwr, and were
-thoroughly chastised by him instead. But in themselves the heights of
-Plynlimmon are a little uninteresting. Short grass and rushes are all
-that grow upon them, and though their rounded outlines have a dignity
-of their own, the lack of colour makes them rather desolate. It is not
-till the Wye has passed Llangurig that it begins to earn its fame.
-
-Curiously enough, the Wye’s fame seems to depend mainly on its lower
-reaches. Nine people out of ten regard it as rising, so to speak,
-in Hereford; the Upper Wye is unknown to them and considered of no
-account. Yet to those who know it the Upper Wye, with its rugged hills
-and its wealth of colours, has a stronger charm even than the wooded
-loveliness of Symond’s Yat or of Tintern.
-
-At Llangurig--which is a wind-swept village with a nice little inn and
-a reputation for good fishing--the river and the road that follows
-it turn sharply to the right, and begin to descend by a very gentle
-gradient towards Rhayader. The landscape changes gradually. The hills
-lose their bleak desolation only to become cultivated and commonplace:
-then the fields yield to moorlands and the rounded curves to bold and
-jagged rocks; and at last, near the spot where the river Marteg adds
-its waters to the Wye and the railway joins the road, the great hills
-rise on each side so precipitously that the way lies almost through a
-defile. The hilltops are bare and grey, but by the banks of the river
-is a belt of trees; and as the valley widens the slopes are no longer
-bare but are glorious in purple and gold, in heather and gorse. And
-where the flaming sides of the Elan Valley converge with the valley of
-the Wye stands the tiny town of Rhayader.
-
-This is, I think, the gem of the Wye. It is well, therefore, if
-possible, to stay here for a day or two; and fortunately there is a
-nice little hotel to stay in. There are hills near and far, and on
-every hill are all the colours of the rainbow, and with the passing of
-every cloud the colours move and change. Close at hand are slopes of
-bracken topped by rugged crags; far away the hills of the Elan Valley
-are blue and amethyst. The river rushes through the town, giving to it
-its name of Rhayader Gwy, the Falls of the Wye, though the falls are
-not what they once were, I believe, before the bridge was built. Of
-course there is a castle-mound, for no Welsh town of a respectable age
-is complete without one. The castle itself has disappeared. The days
-of its life, indeed, appear to have been few and evil. It was built by
-“the Lord Rhys,” the mightiest of all the princes of the south, but so
-strenuous was the life of his day that he was obliged to rebuild it a
-few years later. Afterwards he was for a short time imprisoned by his
-own sons, and it was while he was in this undignified position that his
-castle of Rhayader was seized by his enemies. But these dim memories
-have lately been eclipsed. Those who visit Rhayader to-day think little
-of the valorous and potent prince of ancient Wales; they think almost
-exclusively of the Birmingham Waterworks. We may forgive them for
-this, for the Birmingham Waterworks are more romantic than one would
-expect--romantic not merely as all great engineering works must be,
-with the romance of enterprise and achievement, but also romantically
-beautiful. One may drive for miles beside the lakes that wind into the
-heart of the mountains, and would have so natural an air if it were not
-for their mighty dams of Caban, and Pen-y-Garreg, and Craig Goch. It is
-a drive worth taking, for the road is good, the mountains tower above
-it with real grandeur, and the waters have pathos as well as beauty.
-The legend of buried houses and churches is common to many lakes; but
-in the case of the lakes of Cwm Elan it is no legend, but a fact,
-that their waters flow over the ground where generations of men have
-lived and worked, have ploughed their fields and said their prayers.
-The affairs of most of them are forgotten as completely as their
-houses are buried, but there is one memory here that no waters can
-hide--whether of Cwm Elan or of the chilly Serpentine or of the blue
-Mediterranean--the memory of Percy and Harriet Shelley. They lived here
-once, young and happy, and would have thought it a wild prophecy indeed
-if it had been foretold to them that not only they themselves, but even
-their quiet homestead among the green fields, would be destroyed by
-water.
-
-From Rhayader to Newbridge the road still closely follows the river,
-which, as we watch it mile by mile, gradually becomes wider and calmer.
-For the first few miles the banks are wild enough, and very beautiful;
-then suddenly the river is hidden from us by the deep shades and
-countless stems of Doldowlod Woods, where James Watt once lived; and by
-the time we dart out into the sunlight again we are nearing Newbridge.
-On this road there is nothing to limit our speed except the law, for
-from end to end of the Wye the surface is good, and there are no hills
-that deserve the name. At Newbridge we leave the river for a few miles,
-but join it again near Builth, and cross it to enter that town.
-
-Builth is unattractive. It professes to be a Spa, but I never heard
-of any one who drank the waters; and it is hardly likely to become
-popular, since all the charms of Llanwrtyd Wells are but thirteen miles
-away on the one side, and all the fashion of Llandrindod only seven
-miles away on the other. Llanwrtyd is a delightful little place, with
-a good hotel and lovely surroundings, unspoilt as yet by popularity;
-while Llandrindod, as every one knows, is beloved by so many that it is
-no longer very lovable. Builth has little to offer in rivalry of these,
-and indeed makes small show of hospitality, maintaining in this matter
-the character it earned long ago, when it refused to admit its fugitive
-prince, the last Llewelyn. It is only a little way from here to the
-dell whither he struggled through the snow from this his treacherous
-town, only to find fresh treachery, and to die through its means. His
-dust lies, they say, at the spot called Cefn-y-Bedd, or the Bank of the
-Grave; and here in quite recent times a monument of stone has been set
-up. It stands close to the wayside on the road from Builth to Llanwrtyd.
-
-This, however, is not our road, which follows the Wye very closely for
-a time; through Erwood, where from the top of a slight rise we have a
-wide and beautiful view; past Llyswen and the “Three Cocks,” one of the
-most famous of fishing inns, and through Glasbury to Hay. We are now in
-a broad and fertile valley; the hills are wooded; the river is growing
-slow and stately in its demeanour. The whole aspect of the country has
-changed, for at Hay we shall leave all the wildness of Wales behind us,
-and shall enter the quiet, homely county of Hereford.
-
-“I cam _in crepusculo_ to the Hay,” says Leland, and he chose his time
-wisely.
-
-Hay, or La Haie, as it was originally called, was once the
-meeting-ground of all those turbulent mediæval passions that flourished
-so exceedingly on the border. For this reason it is full of ghosts.
-From this, the Welsh side, it has rather an undistinguished air, but
-when first seen by twilight from the English side, with the Black
-Mountains lowering behind it, and the remains of its grim castle
-dominating it, little Hay seizes the imagination. For those who
-approach it thus _in crepusculo_, like Leland, the past for ever
-lives in its commonplace streets more insistently than the present;
-lives above all in its castle--“the which sumetime hath bene right
-stately”--the castle with the long, picturesque flight of steps, and
-the longer and still more picturesque history. Through that great
-doorway many feet have passed that never came out, for those that
-entered the castle of Hay did it at their peril. The greater part of
-the building as it now stands is of Tudor date, but the entrance has
-by some means survived since King John’s time, and this in spite of
-difficulties: for the place was plundered during the Border Wars,
-destroyed by the Welsh themselves in self-defence, rebuilt by Henry
-III., captured by Llewelyn, retaken by Prince Edward, captured once
-more by Llewelyn’s grandson, and finally suffered the general fate of
-Welsh castles. “Now being almost totally decay’d,” says Camden, “it
-complains of the outrages of that profligate Rebel, Owen Glyn Dowrdwy,
-who in his March through these Countries consumed it with fire.”
-
-This last disaster may account for the entirely modern appearance of
-the houses; but there is nothing, no slate roof, no shop-window full
-of cheap blouses, that can make one forget the haunting presence of
-those that walk unseen in Hay--the undying ghosts of a hundred battles,
-murders, and sudden deaths.
-
-Soon after leaving Hay we pass the remains of Clifford Castle. Here was
-born Jane de Clifford, destined to be so fair that men would call her
-the Rose of the World; and here no doubt she played her childish games
-on the banks of the Wye, with no disturbing visions of that harder game
-which she was to play later on and finally to lose. The story of the
-avenging poison-cup is untrue, we are told: it was in the nunnery of
-Godstow that Fair Rosamund died, and was buried beneath the cruellest
-epitaph, surely, that was ever graven on a tomb.
-
-[Illustration: CONFLUENCE OF THE WYE AND THE MARTEG NEAR RHAYADER.]
-
-[Illustration: HEREFORD.]
-
-Two miles beyond Clifford is the toll-bridge of Whitney, and this we
-cross with a pretty view of the river on each side of us. Our way
-lies through Letton, past the turn to Monnington--which claims to
-be the burial-place of Owen Glyndwr--and through Bridge Sollars
-to Hereford. The landscape all the way is characteristic of the
-country: a scene of quiet fields and gentle river, of thatched
-cottages and gay gardens. It is not exciting, but it is extremely
-pleasant. Characteristic as it is, however, it does not represent
-Herefordshire at its best. The hills above Ledbury, the hop-gardens
-round Leominster, the woods and the wide views near Richard’s Castle,
-are all more distinctive and more beautiful than this part of the Wye
-Valley. Indeed, if we were not at this moment pledged to follow the
-Wye we should do well to drive from Hay to Hereford by way of the
-Golden Valley, though the journey is considerably longer and the road
-by no means so good. This valley was originally named by the British,
-from the river that runs through it, the Valley of the Dore, or of
-the Water, for _water_ is in Welsh _dwr_. The Normans, jumping to
-conclusions, translated this into _Val d’Or_, and so it became the
-Golden Valley; “which name,” says Camden, “It may well be thought to
-deserve, for its golden, rich, and pleasant fertility.”
-
-But it is improbable that either the fertility of the “Gilden Vale”
-or the remains of Abbeydore Monastery will tempt a motorist to leave
-the splendid road that will lead him into Hereford by Letton, and
-Bridge Sollars, and the White Cross that was set up in the fourteenth
-century when the plague was raging in Hereford, to mark the spot where
-the infection ceased, and where, in consequence, it was safe to hold
-a market. Here, on the left, lies the suburb of Widemarsh and beyond
-it the Racecourse, where the promising youth who was afterwards Edward
-I. showed at an early age that genius for extremely practical jokes
-that he used at the expense of the Welsh later on. He was the prisoner
-of Simon de Montfort on this occasion, and was taking a ride with a
-certain number of attendants. He guilelessly suggested that his guards
-should ride races among themselves, while he amused himself by looking
-on; then, when their horses were tired, he upon his fresh one galloped
-off to Dinmore Hill, where the Mortimers of Wigmore were waiting for
-him. This incident took place in Widemarsh; and in Widemarsh too is
-a relic that is worth seeking out before we drive into the heart of
-the town--the preaching-cross of the Dominicans, which, with the ruins
-of a thirteenth-century monastery, stands among the cabbages of the
-Coningsby Hospital. The latter is an Elizabethan foundation, and with
-the red coats of its pensioners is in itself a picturesque object in a
-town that is not very rich in visible memorials of its great history.
-We may look in vain for the castle that was, according to Leland, the
-largest and strongest in all England; the castle that was repaired by
-King Harold and was once so splendid with its ten wall-towers and great
-keep; where Ranulph of Normandy stayed, and Tostig, and King John,
-where John of Gaunt was governor, were Simon de Montfort imprisoned
-Prince Edward after the Battle of Lewes, where Isabella proclaimed
-her son Edward III. Protector of England, and where Owen Tudor was a
-prisoner. As it suffered no less than three sieges during the Civil
-War, and when they were over its remains were sold for £85, we need not
-be surprised that the castle is now represented by a public garden,
-where the youthful citizens of Hereford may play leap-frog over the
-spot where kings have feasted and made history. And not only has the
-castle disappeared, but even of the old houses there are very few
-remaining, as may be judged by the name of the fine one that stands in
-the principal street of the town. In Chester, Worcester, or Shrewsbury,
-“The Old House” would not be a very distinguishing name!
-
-The chief point of interest in Hereford is, of course, the Cathedral,
-with its long and somewhat confusing history. An endless number of
-people have had a hand in the building of it, apparently, from the
-days when Offa of Mercia enriched the shrine of his murdered guest,
-Ethelbert of East Anglia, till the quite recent and rather unfortunate
-day when the west front was finished. The consequence of this diversity
-of builders is that Hereford Cathedral, with its austere Norman
-south transept, its Early English Lady-Chapel, its Decorated south
-choir-transept, and its Perpendicular cloister, is a complete Guide of
-Architecture.
-
-[Illustration: THE PREACHING CROSS, HEREFORD.]
-
-[Illustration: ROSS FROM WILTON.]
-
-It was as the shrine of St. Ethelbert that it first became important.
-There is a good deal of disagreement on the subject of Ethelbert’s
-death. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, for instance, says _tout court_ that
-in 792 Offa commanded the head of King Ethelbert to be cut off; whereas
-Matthew of Westminster gives quite a different version of the affair,
-completely exonerating Offa, “that most noble and most illustrious and
-most high-born king.” It was Offa’s queen, Quendritha, he says, who
-caused a peculiarly comfortable armchair to be placed in the bedroom
-of her visitor the King of East Anglia, and beneath it “a deep hole
-to be dug”--with very unpleasant consequences for the visitor. When
-the horrified Offa heard of Ethelbert’s fate he shut himself up and
-refused food. “But,” adds Matthew, “although he was quite innocent of
-all participation in the King’s death, he nevertheless sent a powerful
-expedition and annexed the Kingdom of the East Angles to his own
-dominions.”
-
-The murdered guest, whoever his murderer, was first buried at the
-spot still called St. Ethelbert’s Well, and afterwards in Hereford
-Cathedral, to its great enrichment.
-
-There are several roads from Hereford to Ross, none of which follow
-the river closely. The most commonly used--being the least hilly--is
-by Bridstow and Much Birch. Between this road and the Wye are still to
-be seen traces of the College of Llanfrother, founded by Dubritius,
-that great Archbishop of Caerleon who preached so movingly at King
-Arthur’s coronation and then resigned his see to the still greater St.
-David. On the other side of the Wye is a shorter, but after the first
-five or six miles a more hilly route, with some fine backward views
-and some glimpses of the river. The surface of this road is all that
-can be desired, and the hills are by no means formidable; but as one
-approaches Ross the country is rather uninteresting.
-
-Ross itself may be regarded as a monument to one John Kyrle.
-
-    “Rise, honest muse, and sing the Man of Ross! [cries Pope]
-    Whose causeway paves the vale with shady rows?
-    Whose seats the weary traveller repose?
-    Who taught that heaven-directed spire to rise?
-    ‘The _Man of Ross_,’ each lisping babe replies.”
-
-The lisping babe, however, is making a mistake, for the Man of Ross
-only taught the spire to rise forty-seven feet; and, moreover, it
-has been destroyed by lightning and rebuilt since his day (which was
-a very long day, lasting from 1637 to 1724). “A small exaggeration
-you must allow me as a poet,” said Pope. But the fame of John Kyrle
-does not depend upon the spire alone, for he did much to improve the
-town, and did it, too, on a very small income. “He was a very humble,
-good-natured man ... of little or no literature,” an eighteenth-century
-diarist says of him. “His estate was £500 per ann., and no more, with
-which he did wonders.” It was not, however, by means of this modest
-estate alone that he won his lasting fame as a philanthropist, but also
-by untiring energy and skill in the art of beggary, and the judicious
-use of other men’s money. In the case of the church bell it was his own
-money that he used, and his own silver goblet also. While the bell was
-in process of casting he drank to Church and King, and then flung the
-goblet into the molten metal--that after serving for the sacred toast
-it might be for ever consecrated to sacred uses. This incident adds a
-touch of the picturesque to the sterling qualities of the benevolent
-old gentleman to whom Ross owes its public walks, and the _Prospect_
-that quaint Gilpin of the eighteenth century described as “an amusing
-view.” Ross repays him by keeping his name green. It also--not entirely
-without difficulty--keeps green the two elm-suckers that long ago
-forced their way beneath the wall of the church and rose (being elms of
-Ross) in the pew of John Kyrle. They have been dead for some time, but
-they are still draped carefully with foliage to keep up the illusion.
-The church itself is fairly old, and has some interesting monuments,
-including an ugly one tardily raised to the memory of the Man of Ross.
-
-In the town the most cherished relics are, of course, Kyrle’s house and
-the carved monogram he is supposed to have placed on the outer wall
-of the Market Hall. The letters “F.C.” are interlaced with a heart,
-and are said to represent the words, “_Faithful to Charles in heart_,”
-for Kyrle was devoted to the Stuarts. Charles I. himself slept once in
-this town, and other kings have visited it, but none has distinguished
-himself here save George IV. The Mayor of Ross sallied forth to meet
-him, as mayors use, wreathed in smiles and primed with speeches. By
-way of response to all this loyalty and eloquence, however, “the first
-gentleman in Europe” merely pulled down the blinds of the carriage!
-History does not record the mayor’s next proceeding. The position
-strikes one as difficult.
-
-Close to Ross and on our way to Monmouth is Wilton, which is reached
-by a beautiful and ancient bridge of six arches, whence there is a
-good view of Ross, clustered prettily on its hill and surmounted by
-its heaven-directed spire. Part of this bridge was broken down during
-the Civil War to prevent Cromwell’s army from reaching Hereford. The
-castle, too, fell into the hands of the Royalists, though its owner
-had carefully refrained from supporting either side, with the result
-that he offended both. The ruins now enclose a private garden and are
-fairly picturesque though they hardly compensate for an interrupted
-run. Within these walls, of which so very little is left, the poet
-Spenser was once entertained in the days of the Greys. Later on the
-castle was owned by the family of Brydges, one of whom, when he was
-Deputy-Lieutenant of the Tower, was the means, either deliberately or
-from mere procrastination, of securing for England one of the most
-glorious reigns in her history. The warrant for the execution of
-Princess Elizabeth reached the Tower, but Charles Brydges delayed to
-carry it out. While he was waiting Queen Mary died.
-
-From Wilton to Monmouth the scenery grows in beauty. At Goodrich Cross
-we should turn sharply to the left to visit the castle, and this is a
-matter that will take some time. For in the first place the castle is
-at some distance from the road, and in the second place there is much
-to see, and much, too, to hear. Yet there is little history connected
-with Goodrich, considering its age and dignity, and the great names of
-Pembroke and Talbot that are bound up with it. Its name, apparently is
-a corruption of _Godric_, who built a fort here before the Conquest,
-though the oldest part of the present ruin is said to date from the
-twelfth century. In the Civil War it endured two sieges, and it was
-after the second one, which lasted for five months, that the Parliament
-dismantled it. Except on this one dramatic occasion, Goodrich figured
-little in public life. It is the antiquary rather than the historian
-who will find it of absorbing interest, for the arches and Norman
-ornaments of the keep date from Stephen’s reign, and many styles of
-architecture are represented in the various galleries, sallyports, and
-towers, which have been gradually added by the successive owners of the
-castle. Greatest of these was Talbot, first Earl of Shrewsbury and hero
-of forty fights, “a valiant man, of an invincible, unconquered spirit.”
-He is said to have added a room to the keep, whence he must often have
-seen, as we may see, the Malvern Hills and the Welsh mountains in the
-distance, with Symond’s Yat and the Kymin nearer at hand.
-
-Below Goodrich is Huntsham Ferry, which Henry IV. was in the act of
-crossing when he heard of the birth of his son, afterwards Henry V.
-So great was his excitement on this occasion that he impulsively
-presented the ferry and its profits to the ferryman, whose heirs held
-this possession for generations.
-
-About three miles from Goodrich we have to climb a short hill with a
-gradient of 1 in 10; the steepest, I think, on this Wye Valley road.
-From the top of it we run down on an easy slope past the wall of
-Wyaston Leys and through the woods behind the Little Doward, with a
-beautiful view--unfortunately visible only in glimpses--of the winding
-river as it bends away towards Symond’s Yat. At the foot of the hill we
-enter Monmouth.
-
-Now Monmouth, or some spot quite near it, is without doubt the best
-motoring centre on the Wye. The town itself is not so pleasant to stay
-in as Ross or Tintern, where there are hotels in pretty positions
-with nice gardens; but to the motorist this is less important than to
-others, since he will probably spend the day on the road. The important
-thing is to have a variety of interesting roads upon which to spend it.
-From Monmouth, one may drive up the Wye to Goodrich, Hereford, and Hay;
-or down the Wye to Tintern and Chepstow; or through the Forest of Dean
-on the further side of the river; or to Raglan, eight miles away, and
-on to Abergavenny; or past Abergavenny and the Holy Mountain into the
-wild Vale of Ewyas to far Llanthony.
-
-“I’ll tell you, there is goot men porn at Monmouth,” says Fluellen,
-thinking of his king; and it is of Harry of Monmouth that we too think
-as we wake the echoes of his birthplace with our horn--those echoes
-that have so often answered to the “tucket” of John of Gaunt and of
-many another. Some say that it was John of Gaunt who built the castle
-in which his grandson was born, but whether this be the case or not
-there was a castle on this spot long before his day, though little
-seems to be known of it. The probability is that John of Gaunt improved
-and repaired the castle that was already there. The existing building
-has had an unusually chequered career even for a castle, having been
-in turn a palace, a pig-stye, an assize court, and a barrack. Even
-in James I.’s time it was said “that his Majestie hath one ancient
-castell, called Monmouth Castell ... which is nowe and hath been for
-a long time ruinous and in decaye, but by whom it hath byn decayed
-wee knowe not, nor to what value, in regarde it was before our
-rememberment.” “Harry’s Window,” but little else, survives as a shrine
-to the king whose name is still “a name to conjure with.” His statue
-stands on the town-hall, but the bells of St. Mary’s are the best
-memorial of Prince Hal, though their story is more characteristic of
-the rollicking schoolboy of Shakespeare than of the wise and soldierly
-monarch of history. Time was when these bells rang out over the town
-of Calais. They were doing so when Harry of Monmouth heard them first,
-and were, in point of fact, celebrating his departure from the shores
-of France with so much joyousness that the demonstration seemed to him
-to be carried too far. He vowed that they should ring no more insolent
-peals in Calais, and forthwith ordered them to be taken down and
-carried to his native town.
-
-His town has other memories than his, and even other famous windows
-than “Harry’s.” There is a fine oriel window, belonging now to
-a school, but carefully preserved in honour of a twelfth-century
-archdeacon, who was none other than that Geoffrey of Monmouth whom
-Camden describes as “an Author well skill’d in Antiquities, but, as
-it seems, not of entire credit.” I fear there is little to be said in
-defence of Geoffrey’s credit as a historian, and there are those who
-say that his window is no more authentic than his writings.
-
-Monmouth, like Hereford, is not rich in relics. Of its defences,
-its walls and its four gates, there is left only one gate on the
-Monnow Bridge, but of this the foundations are so old that there is
-no record of their origin. The form of the gateway itself has been
-slightly altered from time to time to suit increasing traffic, but its
-picturesqueness is uninjured. Through its arch we must pass on our way
-to Raglan and Abergavenny and Llanthony.
-
-It is possible, of course, to see all these places on the same day,
-but it is not desirable. At Raglan one should have a leisured mind,
-undisturbed by thoughts of space or time or possible punctures. There
-are seats on its green terraces where one might sit happily all day
-under the shadow of the Yellow Tower of Gwent, seeing, not only the
-straight, stern lines of the great citadel rising from the moat, and
-the beautiful windows beyond, and the machicolated towers that flank
-the entrance, but also, as clearly as these, the pageantry and doughty
-deeds of long-dead but unforgotten Somersets. Some of them lost their
-heads in defence of the Rose of York, and some lost theirs for the Rose
-of Lancaster, and one, the most famous of all, lost the home of his
-fathers in the cause of the thankless Stuarts. Charles I. himself--for
-whose sake all this splendour of banqueting-halls and state-rooms and
-strong defences was made a ruin--has stood upon this terrace and looked
-up at the great keep to which he was so fatal, has feasted in the
-Elizabethan Hall, has ridden between the entrance-towers in state, and
-has come to them for safety as a fugitive. It was after the Battle of
-Naseby that he fled for protection to the house whose hospitalities he
-knew so well, and whose owner, the first Marquis of Worcester, had
-raised an army of two thousand men to fight for the King. Somewhere,
-in some dark corner within those walls that were then so stately, Lord
-Worcester met his ruined King by stealth, and being aged and infirm
-was obliged to call for help before he could kneel, as it behoved him,
-before the fugitive. “Sire,” said the old man weeping, “I have not a
-thought in my heart that tends not to the service of my God and you;”
-and he put three hundred pounds into the royal hand that took so much
-and gave so little. It closed upon this gift, as it closed a few days
-later upon the waistcoat that the Vicar of Goodrich, Dean Swift’s
-grandfather, had lined with Broad Pieces. There was one occasion, it is
-true, when Charles feared his entertainment might be too costly to Lord
-Worcester, and suggested pleasantly that supplies should be wrung from
-the neighbouring peasants. But Worcester was prouder than the King, “My
-castle would not stand long,” he said, “if it leaned upon the country.”
-
-[Illustration: MONNOW BRIDGE, MONMOUTH.]
-
-[Illustration: RAGLAN CASTLE, ENTRANCE TOWER.]
-
-Even as matters were, his castle did not stand long. It held for
-the King till the last barrel of powder was opened; but the sad day
-came when the gallant old man of eighty-five passed for the last time
-through his own great gateway, between those warlike towers that had
-fought their last fight. He marched out to the sound of music and with
-all the honours of war, but his heart was broken, and after a short
-imprisonment in the custody of Black Rod, he died. “When I spoke with
-the man,” he said of his guardian, “I found him a very civil gentleman,
-but I saw no black rod.”
-
-With this splendid old warrior the glory of Raglan departed. Fairfax so
-dealt with it that neither blood nor wine should ever be spilt within
-its walls again; and the work begun by him was finished by private
-enterprise. It is said that twenty-three staircases have been stolen
-from the ruins of Raglan.
-
-About eight miles beyond Raglan is Abergavenny, lying
-peacefully--forgetful of its lurid past--in the shadow of the Holy
-Mountain. There is about Abergavenny now a peculiar serenity that is
-only equalled by the darkness of its history. Not very much is left
-of the Castle, of which Giraldus Cambrensis, the historian, said that
-“it was more dishonoured by treachery than any other in Wales”; and
-what there is of it is dishonoured now by swing-boats and asphalt
-lawn-tennis courts. If these attractions appeal to us we may enter the
-walls by paying twopence; but in the twelfth century the Seisyllts--the
-ancestors of the Cecils--found that entering Abergavenny Castle cost
-them more than this. One of them, in the absence of the Norman lord of
-the place, was having a friendly chat one day with the constable. There
-was a part of the wall that was in some way weaker than the rest, and
-Seisyllt, pointing laughingly to this spot, said in the manner of one
-who jests, “We shall come in there to-night.” The constable took the
-precaution of keeping guard till daylight, then went to sleep. A few
-hours later he and his wife were prisoners and the castle was captured
-and burnt.
-
-It was after this, I believe, when the castle had been rebuilt, that
-the villain, William de Braose, invited the princes of South Wales
-to a banquet in these halls, picked a quarrel with them at his own
-table, and had them massacred before his eyes. He then solemnly thanked
-God for the fortunate issue of the affair, and more especially for
-the lands of the dead Seisyllts. For this William de Braose, traitor,
-murderer, and robber, never forgot to be pious. “He always placed the
-name of the Lord before his sentences,” says Giraldus; and his letters
-“were loaded, or rather honoured, with words expressive of the divine
-indulgence, to a degree not only tiresome to his scribe, but even to
-his auditors; for as a reward to each of his scribes for concluding
-his letters with the words ‘by divine assistance’ he gave annually a
-piece of gold.” In the matter of the murdered Seisyllts, however, his
-thanksgiving was premature, for there were Seisyllts still alive who
-fell upon Abergavenny Castle and demolished it.
-
-[Illustration: THE MOAT, RAGLAN CASTLE.]
-
-[Illustration: LLANTHONY PRIORY.]
-
-It raised its head again and took an active part in larger wars; but
-it adds little nowadays to the attraction of Abergavenny, whose charms
-are altogether those of peacefulness and depend on the quiet Usk, and
-the hills that grow so purple against the evening sky. To reach
-Llanthony we must drive on into the heart of those hills, with the
-Skirrid Fawr, or Holy Mountain, on the right and the Sugar Loaf on the
-left; then, at Llanfihangel Crucorney, turn sharply to the left down a
-short but very steep hill, and so enter the Vale of Ewyas. Soon after
-passing Cwmyoy the road grows very narrow and hilly. At Llanthony we
-can take our car into the cloister-garth, for it is now the courtyard
-of an inn.
-
-Long ago, when Rufus was king, a horseman drew rein here and looked
-about him. On every side he saw the grand, clear outline of the hills,
-and the shadows of the clouds sweeping across the fern and heather, and
-the dark masses of the woods. Below him the little Honddu glittered
-among the trees, and far away at the head of the valley the heights
-of the Black Mountains rose between him and the world. And then and
-there he vowed that they should rise between him and the world while he
-lived, and should guard his grave when he was dead. We can see the same
-hills at this moment rising blue and misty behind the ruined towers of
-his Priory of Llanthony; and only a few yards away, among the grass and
-nettles, we can see the spot where William de Lacy, soldier and monk,
-was buried under the High Altar.
-
-William de Lacy was not the first to whom this valley appealed as being
-“truly fitted for contemplation, a happy and delightful spot”; for long
-before his day this very place to which he had wandered by chance had
-been made sacred by the prayers of the greatest of all Welsh saints,
-St. David. We may say our prayers on the self-same spot to-day, for
-over there, just beyond the cloister-garth, where St. David had long
-before made himself a hermitage, de Lacy built a tiny chapel. For
-many centuries the richly endowed Priory has been deserted, roofless,
-desecrated; its very arches are fringed with weeds, and fowls peck at
-its grass-grown altar steps; but over there in that plain little grey
-stone building prayers are still rising Sunday by Sunday from the spot
-where St. David knelt alone.
-
-Here in Llandewi Nanthodeni, or the Church of St. David beside the
-river Honddu, William de Lacy “laid aside his belt and girded himself
-with a rope; instead of fine linen he covered himself with haircloth,
-and instead of his soldier’s robe he loaded himself with weighty iron.”
-His solitude did not last long. In those roystering days the sudden
-piety of a soldier of noble birth was not likely to pass unnoticed,
-and Matilda, Henry I.’s Queen, whom William of Malmesbury describes as
-singularly holy and by no means despicable in point of beauty, came to
-visit the hermit in his hill-bound cell, and playfully dropped a large
-purse of gold into the folds of his coarse garments. His fame grew.
-Soon there were many who desired to share his seclusion, and still more
-who, while not quite seeing their way to the forsaking of this world,
-were anxious to show their interest in the next. The former gave their
-lives and the latter their money, and so Llanthony Priory rose in
-all its grace and simplicity, the quiet lines of its architecture in
-perfect harmony with those of the great hills that encircled it. “The
-whole treasure of the King and his kingdom,” said Henry I.’s Prime
-Minister, “would not be sufficient to build such a cloister.” The Court
-was rather scandalised by this bold statement, till the Prime Minister
-explained that “he alluded to the cloister of mountains by which this
-church is on every side surrounded.”
-
-Giraldus describes the place as he saw it in the twelfth century. “A
-situation truly calculated for religion,” he says, “and more adapted to
-canonical discipline than all the monasteries of the British Isles....
-Here the monks, sitting in their cloisters enjoying the fresh air,
-when they happen to look up towards the horizon, behold the tops of
-the mountains as it were touching the heavens, and herds of wild deer
-feeding on their summits.” It is probable that when the Augustinians of
-Llanthony looked up towards the horizon it was not altogether for the
-pleasure of seeing the wild deer. They had other reasons for taking an
-interest in the hills, which too often were swarming with the hostile
-Welsh. It was not long, indeed, before the brethren’s terror of
-the Welsh grew stronger than their love of isolation, and the greater
-number of them fled to Gloucester, where in a new Priory of Llanthony
-their meditations were undisturbed.
-
-[Illustration: INTERIOR OF LLANTHONY PRIORY, SHOWING THE EAST END.]
-
-[Illustration: TINTERN ABBEY.]
-
-The beautiful valley, with its great, bare hilltops and mysterious
-woods, its loneliness and calm, its memories of saintly men, attracted
-a poet of the last century so strongly that he, like William de Lacy,
-determined to stay here. Like de Lacy’s monks, however, Walter Savage
-Landor could not get on with his neighbours, and after buying the
-ruins of the Priory and building himself half a house he quarrelled so
-thoroughly with all the countryside that he thought he would have more
-peace elsewhere. He lived in the rooms that now form an inn, in the
-Prior’s Lodge, and here Southey stayed with him.
-
-This run from Monmouth to Llanthony is about twenty-five miles in
-length. If we are not wedded to the high-road we may return to Monmouth
-by another route--composed almost entirely of byways and in some cases
-very hilly ones--and so visit Grosmont and Skenfrith Castles. The red
-towers of Grosmont stand, as the name implies, on a hill that is not
-climbed without an effort, and the ruin overlooks a village that was
-once a town, and indeed is technically a town still. It still possesses
-a charter, I believe, and a Mayor’s staff; but in the matter of size
-and prosperity it has been no more than a village since the day when
-Henry V., then Prince of Wales, wrote to his “most redoubted and most
-sovereign lord and father” in his “most humble manner” to this effect:
-“On Wednesday the eleventh day of this present month of March (1405)
-your rebels of the parts of Glamorgan, Morgannoc, Usk, Netherwent, and
-Overwent, were assembled to the number of eight thousand men, according
-to their own account; and they went on the said Wednesday in the
-morning, and burnt part of your town of Grosmont ... and I immediately
-sent off my very dear cousin, the Lord Talbot, and the small body of my
-own household ... who were but a very small force in all.... And there,
-by the aid of the Blessed Trinity, your people gained the field and
-vanquished all the said rebels, and slew of them by fair account on
-the field on their return from the chase, some say eight hundred, and
-some say a thousand, being questioned on pain of death. Nevertheless,
-whether it were one or the other, on such an account I would not
-contend.”
-
-That was a sad day for poor Alice Scudamore, who lived hard by at
-Kentchurch Court beyond the river Monnow; for Alice Scudamore, or
-Skydmore, was the daughter of Owen Glyndwr, and the dead men whom
-Prince Henry left upon the field of Grosmont were Owen’s followers.
-This defeat was Owen’s first serious disaster, and was for him the
-beginning of the end. It is said that years later, after the end had
-come, he lived for a time with his daughter in the castellated tower
-that still stands below the hill of Grosmont; and, indeed, Kentchurch
-sometimes claims to be his burial-place. But the claims of Monnington,
-where another of his daughters lived, are generally thought to be more
-authentic.
-
-By making a very short detour from the direct road we may see the
-ruins of Skenfrith Castle on our way back to Monmouth. Even in the
-seventeenth century this castle was described as having been “decayed
-time out of the memory of man,” and its remains are now naturally
-scanty and not especially picturesque. Far more interesting than
-the castle is the church, with its pretty timbered tower and fine
-sixteenth-century tombs. At the vicarage is carefully preserved the
-rarest treasure of this church: a cope that dates from the days before
-the Reformation.
-
-On the other side of Monmouth, beyond the Wye, is the Forest of Dean,
-where one may drive for miles through country nearly as grand and quite
-as thickly wooded as the Black Forest. In most cases the trees are not
-nearly so fine as those of our own New Forest, for the greater part
-of this Forest of Dean was cut down to build our victorious fleets of
-the eighteenth century; but the width of view and the succession of
-tree-clad hills rising one beyond another, are compensations for the
-lack of magnificent individual trees. Of these, however, there are a
-few, such as the Newland Oak and the High Beeches. But on the whole the
-beauty of Dean Forest lies in its distant views, its great expanses
-of foliage stretching away from one’s feet to the blue horizon, as at
-the Speech House and above Parkend, and at many another place; though
-unfortunately many of these views are partly, if not entirely, spoilt
-by the black scars and smoking chimneys of the collieries. The Speech
-House is now a hotel, but it was originally built in Charles II.’s day
-as a kind of Court House in which to settle disputes connected with
-the Forest. St. Briavel’s Castle, a few miles further south than this,
-and nearer the Wye, is a far older relic, for it is said that it once
-sheltered King John. Be that as it may, the little that is left of this
-castle is peculiarly attractive. To reach it, or the Speech House, or
-indeed to drive in the Forest of Dean at all, one must be prepared to
-encounter long hills with gradients in some places not less than 1 in
-7, and roads that have suffered a good deal from the heavy traffic
-connected with the mines.
-
-There is one expedition from Monmouth that we cannot possibly undertake
-in a car, yet should by no means omit. The famous Symond’s Yat, with
-its perfect river scenery, cannot be approached by road, but it is
-easy to reach it by train, and very delightful to return to Monmouth
-by water, past the great limestone crags known as the Seven Sisters.
-At the hotel, where the train deposits one, the attraction is simply
-the view of the river and its wooded banks, but for the energetic this
-view may be much enlarged by half an hour’s climb to the summit of the
-Yat itself, where those who enjoy scenery in proportion to the number
-of counties visible, may have the satisfaction of seeing seven. It was
-near Symond’s Yat, at a defile significantly called The Slaughter to
-this day, that the Danes, under Eric of the Bloody Axe, were defeated
-by King Alfred’s son Edward the Elder, named also the Unconquered, whom
-Matthew of Westminster declares to have been “even more glorious than
-his father for power and dignity.”
-
-The last fifteen miles of the Wye Valley, from Monmouth to Chepstow,
-where the Wye falls into the estuary of the Severn, are probably as
-beautiful as any fifteen miles of English road. It is late in May or
-early in October that we should drive along this road to see it at its
-best, for the whole landscape is filled with trees. The quiet river,
-with the road close beside it, winds between two wooded heights from
-Redbrook to the Severn. A gentle rise takes us out of Redbrook, which
-has spoilt its beauty by manufacturing tin-plate; then we run down to
-Bigsweir Bridge, and cross it, with a lovely view downstream; pass
-Llandogo, where the Wye becomes tidal; pass Brockweir with its ferry;
-and driving through Tintern Parva come within sight of the unsurpassed
-beauty of Tintern Abbey.
-
-Go to Tintern again and again, for it never palls. See it when
-the trees are first breaking into leaf, and all the leaves are of
-different colours; and see it again against the heavy foliage of the
-summer woods; and again when the hills behind it are red and gold in
-autumn. For the Cistercians, though they denied art, were surely
-admirable artists; and being forbidden by their stern rule to adorn
-their churches with coloured glass or superfluous carving, they raised
-for themselves buildings of perfect form in the loveliest places in
-all England, where in spring and autumn the cold grey stone of their
-exquisite windows was the frame of fairer colours than were ever
-stained on glass.
-
-It was of this abbey that the incomparable Gilpin wrote quite gravely:
-“A number of gable-ends hurt the eye with their regularity and disgust
-it by the vulgarity of their shape.” A mallet, judiciously used,
-he suggested, might make improvements. Unfortunately time and long
-neglect have done only too much towards the ruin of Tintern, without
-any help from the judicious mallet of Gilpin. For many years the
-place was utterly uncared for; the stones were used by any one who
-wished to build a cottage, and an old beggar-woman made her dwelling
-in the library of the monks. This was long ago: every care is given
-to Tintern now. The floor of the nave is covered with well-kept turf,
-the fallen fragments of masonry are gathered together, the weak
-places of the building are strengthened wherever it is possible. But
-the alarming curves of the arches bear witness to past neglect, and the
-timid tourist is appalled by the ominous warning on the notice-board:
-“Persons who visit this Abbey do so at their own risk.” This is
-discouraging.
-
-[Illustration: TINTERN ABBEY.]
-
-[Illustration: CHEPSTOW CASTLE.]
-
-From Tintern the road rises for about three miles towards the splendid
-scenery of the Wyndcliff. The river winds below, and beyond it among
-the trees a discerning eye may detect the straight ridge of Offa’s
-Dyke. The view from the road as it passes beneath the famous cliff
-is wonderfully beautiful--a view of tortuous river and height beyond
-height of woodland, and gleaming in the distance the waters of the
-Severn estuary: and those who climb the Wyndcliff come down again well
-contented, having seen nine counties.
-
-As we pass the little village at St. Arvan’s the river is completely
-hidden by the walls and trees of Piercefield Park. A gentle descent of
-about two miles brings us to the steep hill that winds downwards into
-Chepstow above the castle, passing under one of the old town-gates.
-
-“The towne of Chepstow hath bene very strongly waulled,” says Leland.
-“The waulles began at the ende of the great bridge over Wy, and so
-cam to the castel, the which yet standeth fayr and strong.” To all
-appearances, as seen from the further side of Wye, it is strong still,
-and fair it certainly is, standing high upon the red cliffs that add
-so much to the beauty of this last bend of the river. It covers three
-acres of ground, but as it is built in a succession of courts, sloping
-upwards one above the other, the whole of its great length may be seen
-at once and the effect is very fine. This castle, since it was built
-by William FitzOsborne, Earl of Hereford, soon after the Conquest, has
-seen a good deal of life, and even more of death. Its second owner
-forfeited it, being of too independent a temperament to please the
-King. William, having safely imprisoned this rebellious Roger, sent him
-as an Easter gift his own royal robes--an attention that was meant
-well, but was not very tactful. Earl Roger “forthwith caused a great
-fire to be made, and the mantle, the inner surcoat of silk, and the
-upper garment, lined with precious furs, to be suddenly burnt.” This
-was his last act of rebellion. “By the brightness of God,” exclaimed
-the flouted King, “he shall never come out of prison as long as I live!”
-
-Later on the castle passed to the great house of Clare.
-
-    “From Chepstow’s towers, ere dawn of morn,
-    Was heard afar the bugle-horn;
-    And forth in banded pomp and pride
-    Stout Clare and fiery Neville ride.”[13]
-
-The greatest of the Clares, Richard Strongbow, sometimes called the
-Conqueror of Ireland, was born at Chepstow; “a man tall in stature,” we
-are told, “and of great generosity, and courteous manner.... In time
-of peace he was more disposed to be led by others than to command,”
-but “the post he occupied in battle was a sure rallying-point for his
-troops.”
-
-The castle passed from hand to hand through the stirring centuries that
-followed Strongbow’s day. In the Civil War it had many adventures. It
-held for the King at first, was taken by the army of the Parliament,
-and was recaptured by a handful of Royalists under Sir Nicholas Kemys,
-by guile rather than by force. “On the whole,” says Carlyle, “Cromwell
-will have to go.... Let him march swiftly!” He marched swiftly and took
-the town of Chepstow, but besieged the castle in vain. Carlyle tells
-the tale in few words: “Castle will not surrender,--he leaves Colonel
-Ewer to do the Castle; who, after four weeks, does it.” It was not
-easily, however, that Colonel Ewer “did it.” The garrison, reduced to
-nineteen, held out till they were starving, and even then determined,
-not on surrender, but on flight. Their boat lay ready beneath the
-walls, waiting for the darkness. But when night came no boat was there,
-for a soldier of the Parliament, a man of keen eyes, had detected both
-the boat and her object, and, with a knife between his teeth, had swum
-across the Wye and cut the rope that moored her to the river-bank. The
-next day the nineteen Royalists surrendered. Thus Colonel Ewer “did the
-castle.”
-
-During the Commonwealth Jeremy Taylor, the author of “Holy Living and
-Holy Dying”--according to Coleridge the most eloquent of divines--was
-imprisoned in Chepstow Castle as a follower of Archbishop Laud:
-and here, too, when Cromwell’s day was over, Sir Henry Marten, the
-regicide, suffered a mild form of imprisonment for twenty years. He
-was allowed not only to receive his friends but to visit them, and he
-was not deprived of the companionship of his wife. From what I read,
-however, I cannot assure myself that he appreciated the last of these
-privileges. He was buried in Chepstow Church, under an epitaph that he
-composed himself--a rhyming epitaph of a high moral tone. Yet neither
-poetry nor morality was Marten’s strong point. At a later date a
-loyalist vicar removed from the chancel to the nave the bones of the
-man who had signed Charles I.’s death-warrant.
-
-Chepstow Church once formed part of a Benedictine Priory connected
-with the Norman Abbey of Cormeilles, and was originally the nave of a
-larger building. It dates from early in the twelfth century; and even
-if one has not time to enter the church it is well worth while to drive
-past the beautiful Early Norman entrance. There are some interesting
-tombs within, notably that of the second Earl of Worcester, who was
-present at the Field of the Cloth of Gold.
-
-Two miles south of Chepstow is Mathern, where Tewdric of Glamorganshire,
-saint and king, was buried. He was killed in a battle fought at
-Tintern, and in the year 600 a chapel was built here as a shrine for
-him.
-
-“Wye also,” says Leland, “a very great and famose river, passeth
-through Ventland, and at S. Tereudake’s Chapel entereth ynto Severn.”
-
-
-
-
-INDEX
-
-
- Abbeydore, 236
-
- Abbey Foregate, Shrewsbury, 24
-
- Aber, 101
-
- Aberaeron, 222
-
- Aberavon, 180
-
- Aberconwy, 82, 88
-
- Aberdaron, 112, 115-117
-
- Aberdovy, 152-155, 157
-
- Abergavenny, 247, 249, 252-254
-
- Abergele, 84, 85
-
- Aberglaslyn, Pass of, 94, 95, 110
-
- Abergwili, 190
-
- Aberteifi, 219
-
- Aberystwith, 141, 142-145, 148, 149, 222, 225
-
- Agincourt, 152
-
- Alaw, River, 121
-
- Albright Hussey, 46, 47
-
- Alla Wen, 97
-
- Anglesey, 100-102
-
- Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, 239
-
- Arthur, King, 115, 167, 168, 240
-
- Arthur, Prince, 6, 9, 14
-
- Atcham, 25
-
-
- Bala, 152, 159-161
-
- Bala, Lake of, 159, 162
-
- Baldwin, Archbishop, 102, 118, 119, 172
-
- Bangor, 98
-
- Bardsey, 112, 115
-
- Baring-Gould, Rev. S., 147
-
- Barlow, Bishop, 199, 213, 214
-
- Barmouth, 123, 125, 128, 222
-
- Barmouth Estuary, 125, 126, 152, 155, 156, 158
-
- Baron Hill, 101
-
- Bassetts, 174
-
- Battlefield, 34
-
- Baxter, Richard, 27, 43, 44
-
- Bayston Hill, 12
-
- Beaupré, 62, 165, 173-175
-
- Beaumaris, 99, 100-102
-
- Bedd Gelert, 95, 110
-
- Belesme, Robert de, 43
-
- Benbow, Admiral, 45
-
- Bendigeid Vran, 120, 121
-
- Berkeley Castle, 170
-
- Berwyn, 77
-
- Bethesda, 98
-
- Bettws-y-Coed, 81, 82, 85, 91, 92, 94, 95, 108
-
- Borth, 113, 149
-
- Boscobel, 29, 31-33, 44
-
- Bigsweir Bridge, 265
-
- Birmingham Waterworks, 229
-
- Bishop’s Castle, 52, 55, 56
-
- Black Mountains, 232, 255
-
- Bolingbroke, 85
-
- Borrow, George, 69, 79, 107, 109, 141, 187, 222
-
- Boteler of Dunraven, 177, 178
-
- Brampton Brian, 58, 59
-
- Branwen, 120, 121
-
- Braose, Matilda de, 186, 187
-
- Braose, William de, 185, 186, 253, 254
-
- Brecon, 151, 183, 185-187
-
- Brecon Beacons, 184, 185, 187
-
- Breidden Hills, 62, 134
-
- Bridgend, 177, 178, 180
-
- Bridge Sollars, 234, 236
-
- Bridgnorth, 42-45
-
- Bridstow, 240
-
- Briton Ferry, 180, 181
-
- Brockweir, 265
-
- Bromfield, 10
-
- Broseley, 45
-
- Browning, Robert, 71
-
- Brychan, 185
-
- Brydges, Charles, 24
-
- Buildwas, 26-28, 44
-
- Builth, 222, 230, 231
-
- Butler, Lady Eleanor, 71
-
- Bwlch Oerdrws, 132, 133
-
-
- Cadell, Prince of South Wales, 146
-
- Cader Idris, 125, 126, 132, 157, 158
-
- Caerleon, 115, 166-169, 216
-
- Caerphilly, 166, 169, 170
-
- Caersws, 138
-
- Caldey Island, 198
-
- Camden, 89, 98, 233, 235, 249
-
- Cann Office, 133
-
- Capel Curig, 96, 108
-
- Caradoc, 12, 25
-
- Caradoc of Llancarvan, 87, 194
-
- Cardiff, 166, 170, 171, 173
-
- Cardiff Waterworks, 184
-
- Cardigan, 219-221
-
- Carew Castle, 205-208
-
- Carew, Celtic Cross, 205
-
- Carlyle, Thomas, 203, 270
-
- Carmarthen, 187, 190-195, 222
-
- Carnarvon, 85, 99, 103-105
-
- Carningley, 218
-
- Castell Crogen, 68
-
- Caus Castle, 54
-
- Cawdor, Lord, 218
-
- Cefn-y-Bedd, 231
-
- Ceiriog, River, 64, 67, 68
-
- Ceiriog, Valley of the, 67
-
- Ceirw, River, 79
-
- Cernioge, 79, 80
-
- Cerrig Cennen, 189, 190
-
- Cerrig-y-Druidion, 78, 79
-
- Charles I., 15, 17, 20, 43, 91, 122, 242, 250, 251, 271
-
- Charles II., 29, 31-33, 69
-
- Chastillon, Battle of, 48
-
- Chepstow, 225, 247, 265, 268-272
-
- Chester, Hugh, Earl of, 98
-
- Chirbury, 52-54
-
- Chirbury, Lord Herbert of, 52-54
-
- Chirk, 64, 67-69
-
- Churchstoke, 55
-
- Cilgerran, 187, 220, 221
-
- Clare, Gilbert de, 169
-
- Clifford Castle, 234
-
- Clifford, Jane de, 234
-
- Clun, 56-58
-
- Clungunford, 60
-
- Clwyd, River, 84
-
- Clynnogfawr, 112, 117, 118
-
- Cochwillan Woods, 98
-
- Coity, 179-180
-
- Coleridge, 22, 271
-
- Colwyn Bay, 85
-
- Comus, 8
-
- Concenn, 76
-
- Conway, 82, 85, 86, 88-90
-
- Conway, River, 80, 83
-
- Corbet, Captain, 54
-
- Corbet, Sir Vincent, 51
-
- Cormeilles, Abbey of, 272
-
- Corris, 152, 155, 157
-
- Corwen, 68, 77, 78, 161
-
- Cothercott Hill, 55
-
- Cothi, River, 222
-
- Cound, 38
-
- Cowbridge, 173
-
- Cox, David, 82
-
- Craven Arms, 60
-
- Cressage, 38, 39
-
- Criccieth, 112-114
-
- Crogen, Battle of, 68
-
- Cromwell, Oliver, 43, 85, 120, 144, 157, 203, 243, 270, 271
-
- Cross Foxes, 158
-
- Cross Houses, 38
-
- Cwm Bychan, 123, 130
-
- Cwm Hir Abbey, 139
-
- Cwmyoy, 255
-
- Cymmer Abbey, 126
-
-
- Dafydd ap Gwilym, 147
-
- Dale, 202
-
- Darby, Abraham, 28
-
- Darwin, Charles, 18, 22, 61
-
- Davy Gam, 151, 152
-
- Dean, Forest of, 143, 247, 262, 263
-
- Dee, River, 49, 69, 70, 74, 76, 77, 85, 161, 162
-
- Deganwy, 86-88, 106
-
- Derwydd Station, 190
-
- Despensers, 170
-
- Devereux, Penelope, 200
-
- Devil’s Bridge, 141
-
- Dinan, de, 9
-
- Dinas Bran, 70, 71
-
- Dinas Mawddy, 132, 133
-
- Dinmore Hill, 236
-
- Dolbadarn, 92, 105
-
- Doldowlod Woods, 230
-
- Dolgelley, 126, 128, 129, 130, 131, 132, 152, 155, 158, 159
-
- Dolwyddelan, 82, 92, 93, 94
-
- Dore, River, 235
-
- Dryslwyn Castle, 190
-
- Dubritius, 115, 240
-
- Dulas, River, 157
-
- Dunraven, 177
-
- Dwryd, River, 118, 119
-
- Dyfi (Dovey), River, 131, 149, 152-155, 157
-
- Dynevor, 187, 188, 189, 190
-
-
- Eaton Constantine, 26, 27, 44
-
- Edeyrnion, Vale of, 77
-
- Edmund, Prince, 6
-
- Edward the Black Prince, 113
-
- Edward the Elder, 264
-
- Edward I., 21, 42, 82, 84, 86, 92, 102, 114, 120, 144, 194, 212, 236,
-   237
-
- Edward II., 42, 104, 170, 182
-
- Edward IV., 5, 6, 120, 122, 209
-
- Edward V., 6, 7
-
- Egerton, Lady Alice, 8
-
- Eglwyseg Rocks, 70
-
- Elan Valley, 227-230
-
- Eleanor, Queen, 104, 212
-
- Elfreton, Henry de, 88, 120, 169
-
- Eliseg’s Pillar, 76
-
- Elizabeth, Queen, 89, 91, 244
-
- Ellesmere, 45, 50
-
- Erbistock, 45, 49, 50
-
- Eric of the Bloody Axe, 264
-
- Erwood, 232
-
- Essex, Earl of, 14, 200
-
- Ethelbert, King, 238, 239
-
- Ethelfleda, 15, 53, 185
-
- Ewenny, 173, 178, 179, 195
-
- Ewer, Colonel, 270, 271
-
- Ewyas, Vale of, 247, 255-259
-
- Exmoor, 173, 177
-
-
- Fairbourne, 155
-
- Fairfax, General, 203, 252
-
- Fair Rosamund, 234
-
- Feathers Hotel, Ludlow, 4, 5
-
- Fishguard, 217, 218
-
- Fitz-Osborne, Roger, 268, 269
-
- Fitz-Osborne, William, 268
-
- Fitz-Warines, 64
-
- Flemings, 140, 208, 209, 219, 226
-
- Flint, 85
-
- Fuller, Thomas, 48
-
-
- Ganllwyd, Vale of, 129, 130
-
- Geirionydd, Lake, 91, 149
-
- Geoffrey of Monmouth, 249
-
- George IV., 243
-
- Gildas, 175
-
- Gilpin, 242, 266
-
- Giraldus Cambrensis, 100, 102, 118, 119, 198, 209, 215, 253, 254, 258
-
- Glamorganshire, 173
-
- Glan Dovey, 150
-
- Glasbury, 232
-
- Glaslyn, River, 109, 110, 118
-
- Gloucester, 259
-
- Glydyrs, 97
-
- Glyn Ceiriog, 68
-
- Glyndwr, Owen, 57, 61, 74, 77, 88, 98, 104, 106, 116, 120, 122, 127,
-   128, 131, 140, 143, 144, 148, 150-152, 191, 192, 208, 226, 233, 234,
-   261
-
- Glyndyffws, Pass of, 78
-
- Glyndyfrdwy, 77, 78
-
- Glyn-Neath, 183
-
- Gobowen, 64
-
- Godiva, 41
-
- Godstow, 234
-
- Golden Valley, 235
-
- Goodrich, 244, 245, 246
-
- Goodrich, Vicar of, 251
-
- Goodwick, 217
-
- Gower, 192
-
- Gower, Bishop, 199, 212, 213
-
- Grey, Lord, of Ruthin, 106
-
- Griffith ap Cynan, 155
-
- Griffith Gryg, 147
-
- Griffith ap Llewelyn, 113
-
- Griffith ap Nicholas, 187
-
- Griffith, Prince of Gwynedd, 87
-
- Griffith, Prince of South Wales, 219
-
- Grosmont, 260, 261
-
- Guinevere, 166
-
- Gwaelod, Plain of, 123
-
- Gwenllian, daughter of the Lord Rhys, 194, 195
-
- Gwenllian, mother of the Lord Rhys, 195, 214, 219
-
- Gwyddno Longshanks, 124
-
- Gwydir, 91
-
- Gwynedd, 91, 92, 100, 112, 118, 154, 220
-
- Gwynne, Nell, 69
-
-
- Hanmer, 49
-
- Harlech, 85, 88, 116, 119-122, 128, 129
-
- Harley, Lady, 58, 59
-
- Harold, King, 98, 237
-
- Haughmond Abbey, 36-38
-
- Haughmond Hill, 34
-
- Haverfordwest, 205, 208-210
-
- Hawkestone, 35
-
- Hay, 62, 232-234, 235, 246
-
- Hazlitt, William, 22
-
- Heber, Bishop, 36
-
- Henllan Woods, 221
-
- Henry I., 42, 209
-
- Henry II., 37, 42, 50, 68, 189, 212
-
- Henry III., 37, 233
-
- Henry IV., 20, 34, 42, 85, 101, 120, 122, 131, 148, 192, 245, 260
-
- Henry V., 34, 78, 143, 144, 152, 245, 247, 248, 260, 261
-
- Henry VII., 13, 14, 61, 157, 193, 202, 206
-
- Henry VIII., 37, 172, 182, 213-14
-
- Herbert, George, 53
-
- Herbert, Lord, of Chirbury, 52-54
-
- Hereford, 143, 225, 226, 235, 236-239, 243, 246
-
- Hereford, Archdeacon of, 192
-
- Herefordshire, 232, 235
-
- Hirwain, 183
-
- Hodnet, 35, 36
-
- Holyhead Road, 60, 77, 95, 161
-
- Holy Mountain, 247, 252, 255
-
- Honddu, River, 255, 257
-
- Hookagate, 55
-
- Hope Valley, 56
-
- Hotspur, Harry, 34, 89
-
- Howel y Fwyall, 113
-
- Howel Sele, 127, 128
-
- Huntsham Ferry, 245
-
-
- Inigo Jones, 82, 83
-
- Iolo Goch, 74
-
- Iorwerth, 93
-
- Ireland, 121, 215
-
- Ironbridge, 28, 44, 45
-
- Isabella, Queen, 237
-
- Ivetsey Bank, 33
-
-
- James I., 247
-
- James II., 17
-
- Jeffreys, Judge, 27, 47
-
- Jeremy Taylor, 271
-
- Joan, Queen, 50, 90, 101
-
- John, King, 42, 50, 86, 87, 90, 98, 106, 186, 237, 263
-
- John of Gaunt, 212, 237, 247
-
- Johnson, Dr., 22, 27, 98
-
-
- Katherine of Arragon, 6
-
- Kenfig, 180
-
- Kemys, Sir Nicholas, 270
-
- Kentchurch, 261
-
- Kidwelly, 174, 194, 195
-
- Kilgerran, 187, 220, 221
-
- Kingsley, Charles, 109
-
- Knighton, 56, 58, 137
-
- Kymin, The, 245
-
- Kyrle, John, 240-242
-
-
- Lacy, Roger de, 9
-
- Lacy, William de, 256-259
-
- Lampeter, 221, 222
-
- Lamphey Palace, 199, 200, 213
-
- Landor, Walter Savage, 259
-
- Laud, Archbishop, 271
-
- Ledbury, 235
-
- Leicester, Earl of, 14, 91
-
- Leighton-under-the-Wrekin, 27
-
- Leintwardine, 56, 58, 59
-
- Leland, 50, 56, 70, 105, 117, 130, 133, 146, 169, 177, 181, 192, 198,
-   202, 211, 232, 237, 268, 272
-
- Leofric of Mercia, 41
-
- Leominster, 235
-
- Letton, 234, 236
-
- Lewis, Rev. Edward, 53, 54
-
- Little Doward, 245
-
- Little Stretton, 12
-
- Liverpool Reservoir, 161
-
- Llanaellraiarn, 112, 117
-
- Llanbadarn Fawr, 148
-
- Llanbedr, 119, 122, 123, 124, 125
-
- Llanberis, Pass of, 94, 95, 105, 107, 109
-
- Llanberis, Town, 105
-
- Llandaff, 171-173
-
- Llandeilo, 188, 190
-
- Llandinam, 139
-
- Llandogo, 265
-
- Llandovery, 187, 222
-
- Llandrindod Wells, 231
-
- Llandysilio, 102
-
- Llandyssil, 221
-
- Llanelltyd, 126
-
- Llanfaes, 101
-
- Llanfair Caereinion, 133
-
- Llanfair P. G., 100
-
- Llanfihangel Crucorney, 255
-
- Llanfrother, 240
-
- Llanfyllin, 161
-
- Llangadfan, 133
-
- Llangadoch, 188
-
- Llangollen, 60, 67, 70-73
-
- Llangollen, Ladies of, 71-73
-
- Llangurig, 139, 140, 226, 227
-
- Llanidloes, 139
-
- Llanrhaiadr, 159, 162
-
- Llanrhychwyn, 90
-
- Llanrwst, 82, 83
-
- Llanthony, 247, 249, 255-259
-
- Llanthony, Second Priory of, 259
-
- Llantwit Major, 166, 173, 175, 176, 216
-
- Llanwrtyd Wells, 222, 231
-
- Llechryd, 221
-
- Lledr Valley, 80, 92, 94
-
- Llewelyn, the Great, 37, 50, 57, 82, 86, 87, 90, 91, 92, 101, 110, 113,
-   127, 233
-
- Llewelyn III., 102, 106, 231
-
- Lleyn Peninsula, 111-118
-
- Llugwy, 82, 95
-
- Llyfnant Valley, 150
-
- Llyn Dinas, 110
-
- Llyn Gwynant, 109
-
- Llyn Mymbyr, 108
-
- Llyn Padarn, 105
-
- Llyn Peris, 105
-
- Llyn Tegid (Bala), 162
-
- Llyswen, 232
-
- Lockhart, 72, 73, 108
-
- Londres, Maurice de, 179, 194, 219
-
- Longden, 55
-
- Lucy Waters, 211
-
- Ludford, 4
-
- Ludlow, 4-10
-
- Lydstep, 198
-
-
- Mabinogion, 120, 167
-
- Machynlleth, 148, 150-152, 155, 157
-
- Maddox, Mr., 111
-
- Madeley, 28, 29
-
- Madoc, Prince of Powys, 70, 73, 74
-
- Maelgwyn, 86, 106, 107, 154, 155
-
- Maentwrog, 93, 94, 128, 129, 130
-
- Mallwyd, 133
-
- Malvern Hills, 245
-
- Manorbier Castle, 197-199
-
- Marches, Court of the, 5, 96
-
- Margam, 180
-
- Market Drayton, 36
-
- Marrington Dingle, 55
-
- Marrington Hall, 54
-
- Marshbrook, 12, 55
-
- Marteg, River, 227
-
- Marten, Sir Henry, 271
-
- Marton, 52
-
- Mary, Queen, 6, 15, 244
-
- Mathern, 272
-
- Matholwch, King of Ireland, 120, 121
-
- Matilda, Queen, 37, 257
-
- Matthew of Westminster, 239, 264
-
- Mawddach, River, 125, 126, 129, 152, 157, 158
-
- Maxen Wledig, 168
-
- Mellte, River, 183
-
- Menai Bridge, 99
-
- Menai Straits, 99, 102, 103
-
- Menevia, 216
-
- Meredyth ap Conan, 119
-
- Merlin, 192, 216
-
- Milburga, Princess, 39-41
-
- Milford Haven, 200, 205, 208
-
- Milton, 8, 138, 162
-
- Minsterley, 56
-
- Mochras, Point of, 124
-
- Moel Offrwm, 127, 129
-
- Mona, 100-102, 121
-
- Monmouth, 243, 246-249
-
- Monmouth, Duke of, 211
-
- Monnington, 234, 261
-
- Monnow, River, 261
-
- Montfort Bridge, 61
-
- Montfort, Simon de, 236, 237
-
- Montgomery, 53, 54
-
- Montgomery, Arnulph de, 201
-
- Montgomery, Roger de, 13, 20, 23, 40, 41
-
- Morfa Nevin, 114
-
- Morfa Rhuddlan, 84
-
- Mortimer, Edmund, 116, 122
-
- Much Birch, 240
-
- Much Wenlock, 39-42
-
- Mumbles, The, 180
-
- Murchard, Prince of Leinster, 215
-
- Myddleton, Sir Thomas, 69
-
- Myfanwy, Princess, 71, 74
-
- Mynach, River, 141, 142
-
- Mytton, General, 89
-
-
- Nannau, 127, 128
-
- Nant Ffrancon, 94, 95, 97
-
- Nantgarw, 170
-
- Nant Gwynant, 94, 95, 109
-
- Naseby, Battle of, 250
-
- Neath, 173, 181, 182
-
- Neath, River, 181, 182
-
- Neath, Vale of, 182, 183
-
- Nelson, Lord, 193
-
- Nennius, 191
-
- Nest, Princess, 202
-
- Neuf-Marché, Bernard de, 185-187
-
- Nevern, 218
-
- Nevin, 112, 114, 115
-
- Newbridge, 230
-
- Newcastle Emlyn, 221
-
- Newgale, 211
-
- Newport, Mon., 166, 168, 169
-
- Newport, Pembroke, 218
-
- Newport, Salop, 36
-
- Newtown, 138, 225
-
- Nôn, 216
-
- Northumberland, Earl of, 85, 116
-
-
- Oakengates, 33
-
- Offa, 69, 238, 239
-
- Offa’s Dyke, 69, 267
-
- Ogwen, Lake, 96, 97
-
- Ogwen, River, 98
-
- Onibury, 10
-
- Onny, River, 10
-
- Oswestry, 62
-
- Oteley, 51
-
- Overton, 45, 49
-
- Owen Gwynedd, 68, 99, 195, 219
-
- Owen’s Mount, 78
-
-
- Pant-y-Groes, 73
-
- Parkend, 263
-
- Payer, Colonel, 203
-
- Pembroke, 200-203
-
- Pembrokeshire, Coast of, 204
-
- Penmaenmawr, 100
-
- Pennal, 153
-
- Pennant, 97, 117, 160
-
- Penrhyn Castle, 98
-
- Penrhyndeudraeth, 94
-
- Penrhyn Quarries, 98
-
- Pentre Voelas, 80, 92
-
- Pen-y-Groes, 118
-
- Pen-y-Gwryd, 108, 109
-
- Percy, Bishop, 44
-
- Perrot, Sir John, 206
-
- Peverels of the Peak, 63, 64
-
- Piercefield Park, 267
-
- Pistyll-y-Rhaiadr, 162
-
- Plynlimmon, 139, 140, 222, 225
-
- Ponsonby, Miss, 71
-
- Pont Neath Fechan, 183
-
- Pontrhydfendigaidmynachlogfawr, 100
-
- Pont-y-Croes, 118
-
- Pont-y-Cysylltau, 70
-
- Pont-y-Pair, 82
-
- Pope, 240, 241
-
- Porth Clais, 216
-
- Portmadoc, 111, 112, 118
-
- Pumpsaint, 222
-
- Pwllheli, 112, 113, 114, 117
-
-
- Queen’s Head Inn, 62
-
- Quendritha, Queen, 239
-
-
- Raglan, 247, 249-252
-
- Ranulph of Normandy, 237
-
- Ratlinghope, 55
-
- Redbrook, 265
-
- Rhayader, 191, 227-230
-
- Rheiddol, River, 142
-
- Rhianedd, Marsh of, 107
-
- Rhuddlan, 82, 83-85
-
- Rhyl, 84, 114
-
- Rhys, 57, 146, 194, 195, 214, 219, 220, 228
-
- Rhys ap Thomas, 193, 205, 206, 207
-
- Rhysgog Hill, 77
-
- Richard II., 85, 86, 209
-
- Richard’s Castle, 235
-
- Ridgeway, The, 197, 199
-
- Rivals, The, 112, 117
-
- Robert of Normandy, 171
-
- Robert of Rhuddlan, 86, 106
-
- Roche Castle, 210
-
- Roderic the Great, 188
-
- Roman Gravels, 56
-
- Roman Steps, 123, 130
-
- Ross, 240-243, 246
-
- Royal Oak, 31
-
- Royal Oak Hotel, Bettws, 82
-
- Royal Oak Inn, Fishguard, 218
-
- Rupert, Prince, 15, 50
-
- Ruskin, 73
-
-
- Sabrina, 138
-
- St. Alkmund’s, Shrewsbury, 15, 16
-
- St. Alkmund’s, Whitchurch, 47, 48
-
- St. Arvan’s, 267
-
- St. Beuno, 117, 118
-
- St. Briavel’s, 263
-
- St. Brynach, Cross of, 218
-
- St. Chad’s (New), Shrewsbury, 22
-
- St. Chad’s (Old), Shrewsbury, 16, 17, 21
-
- St. Collen’s, Llangollen, 73
-
- St. David, 115, 117, 148, 175, 216, 240, 256
-
- St. David’s, 115, 210, 211, 217
-
- St. Deiniol, 99
-
- St. Donat’s, 173, 176, 177
-
- St. Germanus, 191
-
- St. Illtyd, 175, 176
-
- St. Mary’s, Shrewsbury, 16, 17, 18
-
- St. Padarn, 148
-
- St. Patrick, 215, 216
-
- St. Peter’s, Carmarthen, 193
-
- St. Samson, 176
-
- St. Teilo, 171
-
- St. Tewdric, 272
-
- Scott, Sir Walter, 57, 72, 108
-
- Scudamore, Alice, 261
-
- Seisyllts (Cecils), 253, 254
-
- Seithenyn, 124
-
- Severn, 13, 25, 26, 28, 45, 61, 133, 137, 139, 226, 265, 267, 272
-
- Siabod, Moel, 81, 93, 96
-
- Sidney, Ambrozia, 8, 9
-
- Sidney, Philip, 8, 18, 19, 200
-
- Sidney, Sir Henry, 8, 19, 20
-
- Shelley, 111, 230
-
- Shelley, Harriet, 111, 230
-
- Shelton Oak, 61
-
- Shifnal, 29
-
- Shrewsbury, 12-24, 45, 60
-
- Shrewsbury Abbey, 13, 22-24
-
- Shrewsbury, Battle of, 21, 43 61, 191
-
- Shrewsbury Castle, 20, 21
-
- Shropshire, 1-64, 134, 162
-
- Skenfrith, 260, 262
-
- Skirrid Fawr, 255
-
- Snowdon, 81, 96, 100, 107, 108, 109, 122
-
- Snowdonia, 80, 94, 100, 108, 111
-
- Solva, 211
-
- Southerndown, 177
-
- Southey, 259
-
- Speech House, 263
-
- Spenser, 243
-
- Stack Rocks, 204
-
- Steele, Richard, 193
-
- Stephen, King, 20, 37
-
- Stokesay Castle, 10, 11
-
- Strata Florida, 141, 145-148
-
- Strongbow, Richard, 144, 269
-
- Sugar Loaf Mountain, 255
-
- Swallow Falls, 95
-
- Swift, Dean, 47
-
- Sycharth, 77, 78
-
- Symond’s Yat, 226, 245, 246, 264
-
-
- Talbot, 1st Earl of Shrewsbury, 48, 245, 260
-
- Taliesin, 91, 107, 149, 175
-
- Tal-y-Bont, 149
-
- Tan-y-Bwlch, 94, 129
-
- Tal-y-Llyn, 155, 158
-
- Teify, River, 145, 219, 220, 221
-
- Telford, 21, 28, 43, 60, 79, 97, 99
-
- Teme, River, 4, 5, 137
-
- Tenby, 178, 195-197
-
- Tintern, 225, 226, 246, 247, 265-267, 272
-
- Tintern Parva, 265
-
- Tomen-y-Bala, 160
-
- Tong, 29, 30
-
- Tostig, 237
-
- Towy, River, 187, 188
-
- Towyn, 155, 156
-
- Traeth Maelgwyn, 154
-
- Traeth Mawr, 111, 118, 119
-
- Trawscoed, 145, 148
-
- Trawsfynydd, 129
-
- Trecastle, 187
-
- Trefriew, 90, 91
-
- Tremadoc, 111, 118
-
- Tre-Taliesin, 149
-
- Tryfaen, 97
-
- Tudor, Edmund, 214
-
- Tudor, Jasper, 172
-
- Tudor, Owen, 237
-
- Tyn-y-Groes, 129
-
- Tyn-y-Nant, 79
-
-
- Upper Corris, 158
-
- Upper Wye, 226
-
- Uriconium, 25, 26
-
- Usk, River, 166, 187, 254
-
-
- Valle Crucis, 71, 73-76
-
- Vaughan, Dean, Tomb of, 173
-
- Vaughans of Dunraven, 178
-
- Vernon, Dorothy, 30
-
- Vernon, Sir Henry, 30
-
- Vickers, Dick, 79
-
- Vortigern, 190, 191
-
- Vyrnwy, Lake, 161
-
-
- Wales, Mid, 137-162
-
- Wales, North, 67-134
-
- Wales, South, 165-222
-
- Walpole, Horace, 52
-
- Walton, Isaac, 54
-
- Warwick, Dowager Lady, 69
-
- Watling Street, 33
-
- Watt, James, 230
-
- Wellington, 33
-
- Welshpool, 133, 134
-
- Wem, 45, 47
-
- Wenlock Priory, 38-42
-
- Westbury, 52
-
- Whitchurch, 45, 47
-
- Whitney, 234
-
- Whittington, 62-64
-
- Widemarsh, Hereford, 236
-
- William I., 212, 268, 269
-
- William II., 212, 215
-
- William of Malmesbury, 15, 39, 257
-
- Wilton, 243, 244
-
- Windsor, Gerald de, 201, 205
-
- Wnion, River, 126
-
- Worcester, 2nd Earl of, 272
-
- Worcester, 1st Marquis of, 251, 252
-
- Worthen, 52
-
- Wrekin, 12
-
- Wroxeter, 25
-
- Wyaston Leys, 245
-
- Wye, 69, 139, 140, 222, 226, 265, 268, 272
-
- Wye, Valley of the, 225-272
-
- Wyndcliff, 267
-
- Wynnes of Gwydir, 82, 89, 91, 95, 96
-
-
- York, Archbishop of, 89
-
- York, Richard Duke of, 22
-
- Yr Eifl, 112, 117
-
- Ysgubor-y-coed, 150
-
- Ystradfflur, 145-148
-
- Ystwith, River, 145
-
- Y Wyddfa, 107
-
-
-         UNWIN BROTHERS, LIMITED, PRINTERS, WOKING AND LONDON.
-
-
-FOOTNOTES:
-
-[1] Latin inscription on the wall that used to surround the
-tree.--DUKE’S VERSION.
-
-[2] Since these words were written there have been extensive
-excavations at Haughmond, by which important disclosures have been made.
-
-[3] Transactions of the Archæological Society of Shropshire.
-
-[4] Transactions of the Archæological Society of Shropshire.
-
-[5] _Gentleman’s Magazine_, August, 1906.
-
-[6] “The History of Fulk Fitz-Warine,” translated by Alice Kemp-Welch.
-
-[7] I have seen somewhere that the original name of these falls was not
-Rhaiadr y Wennol, or Swallow Falls, but Rhaiadr Eweynol, or Foaming
-Falls. This seems probable: but Borrow accepted the former version, and
-he was a stern critic in such matters.
-
-[8] Quotations from the “Mabinogion” are from Lady Charlotte Guest’s
-translation.
-
-[9] _Sic._
-
-[10] “The Book of South Wales,” by the Rev. S. Baring-Gould.
-
-[11] “The March and Borderland of Wales,” by A. G. Bradley.
-
-[12] Rev. S. Baring-Gould, “The Book of South Wales.”
-
-[13] “The Norman Horse-shoe” (Sir Walter Scott.)
-
-
-
-
-      *      *      *      *      *      *
-
-
-
-
-Transcriber's note:
-
-Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as
-possible, including some inconsistencies in hyphenation. Some minor
-corrections of spelling have been made.
-
-
-
-***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOTOR TOURS IN WALES & THE BORDER
-COUNTIES***
-
-
-******* This file should be named 53152-0.txt or 53152-0.zip *******
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-<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Motor Tours in Wales &amp; the Border Counties,
-by Mrs. Rodolph Stawell, Illustrated by R. De S. Stawell</h1>
-<p>This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States
-and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no
-restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or re-use it
-under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this
-eBook or online at <a
-href="http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>.  If you are not
-located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws of the
-country where you are located before using this ebook.</p>
-<p>Title: Motor Tours in Wales &amp; the Border Counties</p>
-<p>Author: Mrs. Rodolph Stawell</p>
-<p>Release Date: September 27, 2016  [eBook #53152]</p>
-<p>Language: English</p>
-<p>Character set encoding: UTF-8</p>
-<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOTOR TOURS IN WALES &amp; THE BORDER COUNTIES***</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<h4>E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Paul Clark,<br />
-    and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br />
-    (<a href="http://www.pgdp.net">http://www.pgdp.net</a>)<br />
-    from page images generously made available by<br />
-    Internet Archive/American Libraries<br />
-    (<a href="https://archive.org/details/americana">https://archive.org/details/americana</a>);<br />
-    book cover image digitized by<br />
-    the Google Books Library Project<br />
-    (<a href="http://books.google.com">http://books.google.com</a>)<br />
-    and generously made available by HathiTrust Digital Library<br />
-    (<a href="https://www.hathitrust.org/digital_library">https://www.hathitrust.org/digital_library</a>)</h4>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<table border="0" style="background-color: #ccccff;margin: 0 auto;" cellpadding="10">
-  <tr>
-    <td valign="top">
-      Note:
-    </td>
-    <td>
-      Images of the original pages are available through
-      Internet Archive/American Libraries. See
-      <a href="https://archive.org/details/motortoursinwale00staw">
-      https://archive.org/details/motortoursinwale00staw</a>
-    </td>
-  </tr>
-</table>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<hr class="full" />
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<h1>Motor Tours in Wales and the Border Counties</h1>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="coverpage" src="images/cover.jpg" width="539" height="800" alt="" />
-</div>
-
-<div class="center">
-<a href="images/map01-large.png"><img src="images/map01.png" width="491" height="331" alt="Map" /></a>
-</div>
-
-<div class="center p2">
-<a href="images/map02-large.png"><img src="images/map02.png" width="594" height="332" alt="Map" /></a>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_i" id="Page_i">[Pg i]</a><br /><a name="Page_ii" id="Page_ii">[Pg ii]</a><br /><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[Pg iii]</a></span></p>
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill01" src="images/ill01.jpg" width="381" height="600" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">VALLE CRUCIS ABBEY.</p>
-
-<p class="right">[<i>Frontispiece</i></p></div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<div class="center">
-<img src="images/tp.png" width="397" height="600" alt="" />
-</div>
-
-<p class="center xlarge">MOTOR TOURS<br />
-IN<br />
-WALES &amp; THE BORDER<br />
-COUNTIES</p>
-
-<p class="center large"><i>By<br />
-Mrs. Rodolph Stawell</i></p>
-
-<p class="center">With Photographs by<br />
-R. De S. Stawell</p>
-
-<p class="center large p2">BOSTON<br />
-L. C. PAGE &amp; COMPANY<br />
-1909
-</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[Pg iv]</a><br /><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[Pg v]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS</a></h2>
-
-<table summary="Contents">
-<tr><td class="tdc">I</td>
-<td class="tdr small">PAGE</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="pb"><a href="#SHORT_RUNS_IN_SHROPSHIRE">SHROPSHIRE</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">1</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdc">II</td><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="pb"><a href="#A_TOUR_IN_NORTH_WALES">NORTH WALES</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">65</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdc">III</td><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="pb"><a href="#THROUGH_THE_HEART_OF_WALES">THE HEART OF WALES</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">135</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdc">IV</td><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="pb"><a href="#A_TOUR_IN_SOUTH_WALES">SOUTH WALES</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">163</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdc">V</td><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="pb"><a href="#THE_VALLEY_OF_THE_WYE">WYE VALLEY</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">223<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[Pg vi]</a><br /><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span></td></tr>
-</table>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<h2><a name="ILLUSTRATIONS" id="ILLUSTRATIONS">ILLUSTRATIONS</a></h2>
-
-<table summary="Illustrations">
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill01">VALLE CRUCIS ABBEY</a></td>
-<td class="tdr pb"><i>Frontispiece</i></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td colspan="2" class="tdr small">FACING PAGE</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill02">LUDLOW CASTLE</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">4</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill03">THE FEATHERS HOTEL, LUDLOW</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">5</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill04">TUDOR DOORWAY, LUDLOW CASTLE</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">6</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill05">THE ROUND CHAPEL, LUDLOW CASTLE</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">7</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill06">ENTRANCE TO HALL IN WHICH “COMUS” WAS FIRST PERFORMED</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">10</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill07">STOKESAY CASTLE</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">11</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill08">OLD STREET IN SHREWSBURY</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">22</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill09">RICHARD BAXTER’S HOUSE, EATON CONSTANTINE</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">23</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill10">BUILDWAS ABBEY</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">28</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill11">MADELEY COURT</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">29</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill12">HAUGHMOND ABBEY</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">38</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill13">WENLOCK PRIORY, ST. JOHN’S CHAPEL</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">39</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill14">WENLOCK PRIORY, CHAPTER HOUSE</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">42<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</a></span></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill15">BISHOP PERCY’S BIRTHPLACE, BRIDGNORTH</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">43</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill16">WHITTINGTON CASTLE</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">64</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill17">THE LLEDR VALLEY, FROM THE HOLYHEAD ROAD</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">65</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill18">THE OLD CHAPEL, BETTWS-Y-COED</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">82</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill19">THE LLUGWY AT BETTWS-Y-COED</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">83</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill20">CONWAY CASTLE</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">90</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill21">THE PASS OF NANT FFRANCON</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">91</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill22">THE MENAI BRIDGE, FROM ANGLESEY</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">102</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill23">CARNARVON CASTLE</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">103</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill24">DOLBADARN CASTLE</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">106</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill25">SNOWDON, FROM CAPEL CURIG</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">107</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill26">NEAR BEDD GELERT</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">120</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill27">GATEWAY OF HARLECH CASTLE</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">121</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill28">THE MAWDDACH, FROM TYN-Y-GROES HOTEL</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">134</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill29">LLANIDLOES</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">135</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill30">ARCHWAY AT STRATA FLORIDA</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">148</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill31">NEAR GLANDOVEY</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">149</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill32">THE MAYOR’S HOUSE, MACHYNLLETH</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">156</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill33">THE RIVER DULAS</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">157<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[Pg ix]</a></span></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill34">THE PASS OF CORRIS, NEAR TAL-Y-LLYN</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">158</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill35">BALA LAKE</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">159</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill36">CAERPHILLY CASTLE</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">172</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill37">BEAUPRÉ CASTLE</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">173</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill38">EWENNY PRIORY</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">180</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill39">NEATH ABBEY</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">181</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill40">BRECON</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">186</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill41">GATEWAY, KIDWELLY CASTLE</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">187</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill42">GOSCAR ROCK, TENBY</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">196</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill43">MANORBIER CASTLE, NEAR TENBY</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">197</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill44">ENTRANCE TOWER, PEMBROKE CASTLE</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">202</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill45">PEMBROKE COAST</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">203</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill46">CAREW CASTLE</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">208</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill47">ST. DAVID’S CATHEDRAL AND RUINS OF THE BISHOP’S PALACE</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">209</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill48">ST. MARY’S COLLEGE, ST. DAVID’S</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">212</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill49">ST. DAVID’S CATHEDRAL: INTERIOR</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">213</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill50">KILGERRAN CASTLE, NEAR CARDIGAN</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">222</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill51">THE WYE NEAR ITS SOURCE</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">223<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">[Pg x]</a></span></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill52">CONFLUENCE OF THE WYE AND THE MARTEG NEAR RHAYADER</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">234</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill53">HEREFORD</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">235</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill54">THE PREACHING CROSS, HEREFORD</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">238</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill55">ROSS FROM WILTON</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">239</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill56">MONNOW BRIDGE, MONMOUTH</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">250</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill57">RAGLAN CASTLE, ENTRANCE TOWER</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">251</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill58">THE MOAT, RAGLAN CASTLE</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">254</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill59">LLANTHONY PRIORY</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">255</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill60">INTERIOR OF LLANTHONY PRIORY, SHOWING THE EAST END</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">258</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill61">TINTERN ABBEY</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">259</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill62">TINTERN ABBEY</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">266</td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="tdh"><a href="#ill63">CHEPSTOW CASTLE</a></td>
-<td class="tdpn">267<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">[Pg xi]</a></span></td></tr>
-</table>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xii" id="Page_xii">[Pg xii]</a><br /><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span>
-Much of the material of this book has appeared in
-the <i>Car Illustrated</i>, and is here reproduced by the kind
-consent of Lord Montagu.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a><br /><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p>
-<h2><a name="SHORT_RUNS_IN_SHROPSHIRE" id="SHORT_RUNS_IN_SHROPSHIRE">SHORT RUNS IN SHROPSHIRE</a></h2>
-
-<p>There was once a tramp who said&mdash;“Och,
-now, it’s true what I’m tellin’
-ye; I never got a bit o’ good out o’ me life
-till I took to the road!”</p>
-
-<p>He was quite serious about it. He was a
-nice tramp, with a fine sense of romance
-and a large trust in the future, and on
-this first day of the tour his words ring
-in my head above the rush of the wind and
-the throbbing of the engine. For though
-all the days will be good, this first day is
-surely the best. To be on the road again;
-to have one’s luggage behind one and all
-the world in front; to watch the villages
-slipping by and mark their changing character;
-to saunter through strange towns
-and swing across great, desolate moorlands;
-to pause at some attractive inn, or eat sand<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span>wiches
-and sunshine by the wayside&mdash;this is
-the first day. History and the camera must
-wait; the first day must be given up to the
-sheer joy of the road.</p>
-
-<p>So, as we shall not be able to hurry in
-Shropshire, seeing that there history cannot
-be ignored, we shall do well to cross
-its border in the evening, and spend the
-night in Ludlow. We will drop gently
-down the hill by Ludford House, and cross
-the Teme when the light is growing dim,
-and we can only tell by the deepening of the
-shadows in the trees on the left that the
-castle stands among them. Then we will
-climb a short, steep hill into the town
-through the only one of the old gates
-that is still standing, turn to the right
-through the Bull Ring, and draw up before
-the famous carved front of the “Feathers.”</p>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill02" src="images/ill02.jpg" width="600" height="379" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">LUDLOW CASTLE.</p></div>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill03" src="images/ill03.jpg" width="379" height="600" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">THE FEATHERS HOTEL, LUDLOW.</p></div>
-
-<p>Here in this little town, in its historic inn,
-in its church and its great castle, we may
-find the concentrated essence, as it were, of
-the glamour of Shropshire&mdash;that borderland
-where the local stories have helped to
-make the history of England, and the
-quiet towns have seen wild deeds of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span>
-courage and horror, and the fields have
-been red with blood; where every tiny
-village has its own tale of love or battle,
-of fair lady or fugitive king. This very
-house, the “Feathers,” has a world of
-romance in its timbered walls and panelled
-rooms, for it is far older than the beautiful
-Jacobean chimney-piece before which
-we shall presently dine. These moulded
-ceilings and elaborate carvings, it is said,
-were once the property of a member of
-that Council of the Welsh Marches that
-Edward IV. established to bring order into
-the affairs of this stormy neighbourhood,
-where the “Lords Marchers” had hitherto
-taken what they chose, and kept it if they
-could. It is said that the English King
-once asked by what warrant the Lords
-Marchers held their lands. “By this
-warrant,” said one of them grimly, drawing
-his sword&mdash;and the inquiry went no
-further.</p>
-
-<p>The President of this Council lived in
-the great castle that still stands so imposingly
-above the Teme, with its outer and
-inner baileys, its Norman keep and curious<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span>
-round chapel, and all its long, long
-memories.</p>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill04" src="images/ill04.jpg" width="378" height="600" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">TUDOR DOORWAY, LUDLOW CASTLE.</p></div>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill05" src="images/ill05.jpg" width="600" height="379" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">THE ROUND CHAPEL, LUDLOW CASTLE.</p></div>
-
-<p>Within these grey walls we may dream
-of many things, both pitiful and gay: of
-all the children who have played and the
-poets who have written here; of young
-Prince Arthur, who died here; of his
-bride, Katherine of Arragon; of poor
-Princess Mary&mdash;“my ladie Prince’s grace,”
-as they called her quaintly&mdash;the Queen of
-blood and tears. Edward IV. and his
-brother Edmund, dressed in green gowns,
-played in these courts as boys, and wrote
-a letter to their “right noble lord and
-father,” begging him daily to give them
-his hearty blessing, and to send them some
-fine bonnets by the next sure messenger;
-and here on the right is the roofless tower
-whose crumbling walls are haunted by the
-most touching memories in all Ludlow.
-For these weed-grown stones have echoed
-to the voices of Edward IV.’s little sons,
-who lived and laughed here with no
-thought of that grimmer Tower that is
-connected for ever with their names. There
-is still existing a wonderful letter written<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span>
-by the King to “his Castle of Lodelowe,”
-in which he gives the most minute instructions
-as to the education and general
-deportment of the Prince of Wales&mdash;not
-forgetting the baby’s bedtime. His Majesty,
-indeed, was definite on all points.</p>
-
-<p>“We will that our said son have his
-breakfast immediately after his mass; and
-between that and his meat to be occupied
-in such virtuous learning as his age shall
-suffer to receive.”</p>
-
-<p>His age at this time was three years.
-Not only was the virtuous learning to
-occupy him from breakfast till dinner, but
-during the latter meal “such noble stories
-as behoveth to a prince to understand and
-know” were to be read aloud to him; and
-“after his meat, in eschewing of idleness,”
-he was to be “occupied about his learning”
-again. It is a relief to read that after his
-supper he was to have “all such honest disports
-as may be conveniently devised for his
-recreation.” At eight o’clock his attendants
-were “to enforce themselves to make him
-merry and joyous towards his bed”; and,
-indeed, after so hard a day of virtuous<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span>
-learning and noble stories and honest disports,
-the poor child must have been glad
-to get there!</p>
-
-<p>Later on, when Sir Henry Sidney was
-President of the Council, this ground
-where we are standing was trodden by
-his son Philip, the pattern of chivalry,
-who “fearde no foe, nor ever fought
-a friend”; and it was through that doorway
-at the top of the inclined plane&mdash;then
-a flight of marble steps&mdash;that little
-Lady Alice Egerton, not knowing that she
-was on her way to immortality, passed
-on the evening that she took part in the
-first performance of <i>Comus</i>, which Milton
-had written for her.</p>
-
-<p>It is curious that in this venerable town
-so many of our thoughts should be claimed
-by the very young. Ludlow Castle, as one
-sits here thinking of the past, seems to be
-peopled with the ghosts of children. And
-even in the church whose great tower gives
-Ludlow so distinguished an air, the church
-where the solemn Councillors of the Marches
-have their pompous tombs, we find the grave
-of Philip Sidney’s little sister. “Heare<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span>
-lyethe the bodye of Ambrozia Sydney,
-iiijth doughter of the Right Honourable
-Syr Henrye Sydney ... and the Ladye
-Mary his wyef.” It is sometimes said, too,
-that Prince Arthur, Henry VII.’s young son,
-is buried here, but this is not the case.
-There is a cenotaph that was, perhaps
-raised in his memory, but his body was
-taken to Worcester Cathedral.</p>
-
-<p>These are the gentler memories of Ludlow.
-Of the fiercer kind there is no lack, from
-the old fighting days of the de Lacy who
-built the keep, and the de Dinan who built
-the round chapel, down through centuries
-of siege and battle to the time of the Civil
-War, when the King’s flag flew here longer
-than on any other castle of Shropshire.</p>
-
-<p>Ludlow might well be chosen as a centre
-for motor drives in Herefordshire, Shropshire,
-and Worcestershire. But for the
-moment we are concerned with Shropshire
-only, and the centre of that county, in
-every sense, is Shrewsbury; and so, sad
-though it is to leave Ludlow so soon, we
-must glide away down the steep pitch
-beyond the door of the “Feathers,” past<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span>
-the railway station, past the racecourse,
-and over the twenty-nine miles of excellent
-and level road that lie between Ludlow and
-Shrewsbury.</p>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill06" src="images/ill06.jpg" width="600" height="376" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">ENTRANCE TO HALL IN WHICH “COMUS” WAS FIRST PERFORMED.</p></div>
-
-<p>The first village on this road, Bromfield, is
-very typical of the villages of Shropshire at
-their best. The black-and-white cottages
-seem to have been set in their places with
-an eye to pictorial effect; the stream and
-bridge are exactly in the right spot; and
-to complete the picture, a beautiful old
-gatehouse stands a little way back from
-the road. It is built half of stone, half of
-timber and plaster, and was once the gateway
-of a Benedictine Priory which is mentioned
-in Domesday Book as being of some
-importance. It leads now to the church,
-and is one of those unexpected touches of
-beauty and interest that may meet one’s
-eye at any turn of a Shropshire road.</p>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill07" src="images/ill07.jpg" width="418" height="600" alt="" />
-<div>
-<div class="left ilh"><i>Photo by</i>]</div><div class="right ilh">[<i>W. D. Haydon.</i></div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="caption">STOKESAY CASTLE.</p></div>
-
-<p>At Onibury we cross the line and the
-river Onny, and about a mile and a half
-further on we should begin to look for
-Stokesay Castle on the left. As it is a
-little way from the main road, and partly
-hidden by trees, it is easy to miss it when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span>
-travelling at a good pace; but it is perhaps
-the most attractive ruin in Shropshire from
-an artist’s point of view, and should on no
-account be neglected. It is really a fortified
-house rather than a castle, and the mingling
-of the warlike with the domestic gives it a
-peculiar charm. The northern end, with
-its irregular roof and overhanging upper
-storey, the “Solar Room,” with its magnificent
-carved chimney-piece, and even the
-timbered gateway, are all merely suggestive
-of a dwelling-house; and it is only when we
-turn to the curious polygonal tower that
-we remember how in the old days an
-Englishman’s house was either very literally
-his castle or was likely to become
-some other Englishman’s house at an early
-date. As far as I know, however, the only
-time that Stokesay had to make any use
-of its defences was when it was garrisoned
-for the King during the Civil War, and on
-that occasion it seems to have yielded
-without much ado.</p>
-
-<p>It is by very pleasant ways that this
-road is leading us&mdash;between wooded hills
-and over quiet streams. The valley narrows<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span>
-and is at its prettiest near Marshbrook and
-Little Stretton; then the pointed hill of
-Caradoc became conspicuous, and beyond
-it the famous Wrekin appears&mdash;famous not
-for its beauty, but because, being in the
-centre of the county, it can be seen by
-nearly every one in Shropshire, and so has
-gathered round it the sentiment of all
-Salopian hearts. “To friends all round the
-Wrekin!” is the famous Shropshire toast,
-and there, far away to the right, is the
-isolated rounded hill that means so much
-to those born within sight of it. At
-Stretton we leave the hills and wooded
-valleys behind us, and pass through a few
-miles of rather dull country. It is at the
-village of Bayston Hill that we first see,
-dimly blue against a background of hills,
-the slender spires&mdash;almost unrivalled in
-beauty&mdash;of that fair town which long ago
-the Welsh named <i>Y Mwythig</i>, the Delight.</p>
-
-<p>The history of Shrewsbury is stirring, and
-very, very long. When England was still
-in the making she stood there on her hill,
-looking down at the encircling river that
-has defended her for so many centuries.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span>
-Nearly every street is connected in some
-way with history; every second house is
-haunted by some great name. Many large
-and solemn books have been written about
-Shrewsbury, and not one of them is dull.
-Even in these few hundred yards between
-the river and our hotel how many memories
-there are! As we turn on to the English
-Bridge to cross the Severn we should
-glance backwards to the right at the red
-tower and great west window of the Abbey
-founded by the Conqueror’s kinsman, Roger
-de Montgomery, a man of mark; and then,
-having crossed the steep rise and fall of the
-bridge, we climb into the heart of the town
-by the hill called the Wyle Cop. It was
-up this steep hill that, not so very long ago,
-the London coach used to dash, turning
-into the yard of the Lion Hotel at a
-pace that is still spoken of with awe and
-admiration. If we were to do the like we
-should probably have to pay five pounds
-and costs, so we will ascend the Cop in a
-way more conducive to dreaming of the
-past: of Harry Tudor on his way to “trye
-hys right” at Bosworth, with the welcom<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span>ing
-citizens strewing flowers before him;
-of the more stately procession that wound
-up the hill when he came back as Henry VII.
-with his Queen and young Prince Arthur;
-of Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, and his
-stepson Essex, after their reception by
-bailiffs and aldermen, “and other to the
-number of xxiiij scarlet gowns, with the
-scollars of the freescoole,” listening wearily
-“at the upper end of the Wylde Coppe,”
-to three orations! Henry Tudor, when he
-reached the Wyle Cop, was glad to take
-shelter for the night in that picturesque
-little black-and-white house with the overhanging
-top storey and the tiled roof&mdash;it
-is on the left, rather more than half-way
-up the hill&mdash;for he had not won his way
-into the town without difficulty. “The
-gates weare shutt against him and the portculleys
-lett downe,” and a bailiff of the
-town&mdash;“a stout, wise gentleman,” we are
-told&mdash;vowed that Henry should only enter
-over his prostrate body. So, when Henry
-had made it clear that he did not mean to
-hurt the town, “nor none therein,” the
-only way for the stout, wise gentleman to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span>
-keep his word was by lying down on the
-ground and allowing his future king to
-step over him. Thus did Henry of Richmond
-come in triumph to the little house
-on the Wyle.</p>
-
-<p>If we are going to the “Raven,” or the
-“Crown,” as is probable, we turn to the right
-near the top of the hill, and pass the beautiful
-old timbered house&mdash;which stands on
-the right hand, a little back from the street&mdash;where
-Princess Mary stayed on her way
-to Ludlow after she had been created
-<i>Prince</i> of Wales; and a little further up,
-on the left, is the many-gabled house where
-Prince Rupert lived for a time when he was
-here with Charles I. On each side of us
-rises one of the slender spires that are the
-pride of Shrewsbury. St. Alkmund’s Church,
-on the left, was founded by Alfred’s daughter
-Ethelfleda, known as the Lady of the
-Mercians; a lady, it would seem, of some
-force. “A woman of an enlarged soul,”
-William of Malmesbury calls her; and adds:
-“This spirited heroine assisted her brother
-greatly with her advice, and was of equal
-service in building cities.” It is gravely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span>
-recorded in a serious chronicle that in 1533
-“the dyvyll apearyd in Saint Alkmond’s
-Churche there when the preest was at
-highe masse with greate tempest and darknes,
-so that as he passyd through the
-churche he mountyd up the steeple in the
-sayde churche, teringe the wyer of the
-sayde clocke, and put the prynt of hys
-clawes uppon the iiijth bell.” This steeple
-on our left was the very scene of this feat;
-but the body of the church was rebuilt in
-the eighteenth century. Another old Shrewsbury
-church, St. Chad’s, had fallen down,
-and the congregation of Saint Alkmund’s
-feared a repetition of the disaster. In the
-case of St. Alkmund’s, however, it was the
-rebuilding that was the disaster.</p>
-
-<p>The story of St. Mary’s lovely spire, on
-our right, is full of incident. In 1572 it was
-“blown aside by wind”; in 1594 “there fell
-such a monstrous dry wind, and so extreme
-fierce ... that the like was never seen of
-those that be living ... the force whereof
-removed the upper part of St. Mary’s
-steeple out of his place towards the south
-about five inches”; in 1662 the steeple was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span>
-“taken down six yards from the top”; in
-1690 it was damaged by an earthquake; in
-1754 it was “shattered by a high wind”;
-in 1756 the newly-built part was again
-“blown aside”; in 1818 the upper part
-“became loose”; and during a terrific storm
-in 1894 fifty feet of its masonry fell through
-the roof of the nave shortly after the
-evening service. Most wonderfully this last
-disaster did no damage to the stained glass,
-which is St. Mary’s great glory and has
-itself had an eventful existence; for some
-of it was in old St. Chad’s when it fell,
-and much of it, long ago, filled the windows
-of religious houses in Germany.</p>
-
-<p>The slender columns and pointed arches
-of this lovely church have rung to the
-voice of Charles I., who once proclaimed
-his good intentions within these walls, and
-knelt, harassed and nearly uncrowned, before
-this altar. It was in St. Mary’s, too, that
-James II. touched for the King’s Evil.</p>
-
-<p>Just beyond the church is the Crown
-Hotel, and whether we stay there or at the
-“Raven,” a hundred yards away, we shall
-hear the bells of St. Mary’s, once described<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span>
-as “the comfortablest ring of bells in all
-the town,” and the chiming clock that was
-the bequest of Fanny Burney’s Uncle James,
-and the curfew, which still rings every
-night at nine. And after the curfew we
-shall hear the number of the day of the
-month rung out&mdash;a relic of the times before
-cheap almanacs existed.</p>
-
-<p>There is no doubt that the most satisfactory
-way of seeing Shropshire is to spend
-a few nights in Shrewsbury, and make it
-the basis of operations; for Shrewsbury lies
-exactly in the centre of the county, and is
-the meeting-point of a particularly large
-number of good roads. The old town itself,
-too, does not deserve to be hurried through.
-The longer one stays in it the more one
-feels the charm of its gentle old age.</p>
-
-<p>The Old School Buildings are within a
-stone’s-throw of us, with all their memories
-of the wise and great: memories that are,
-as a matter of fact, older than themselves;
-for though Charles Darwin was educated
-within these very walls, it was in an older
-building of wood, standing on the same spot,
-that Philip Sidney was a schoolboy&mdash;gentle<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span>
-and grave, and as much loved then as he was
-destined to be all his life, and is still. It
-was while he was here that his father wrote
-him a “very godly letter ... most necessarie
-for all yoong gentlemen to be carried in
-memorie,” which his mother, who added a
-postscript “in the skirts of my Lord President’s
-letter,” considered to be so full of
-“excellent counsailes,” that she begged Philip
-to “fayle not continually once in foure or
-five daies to reade them over.” The counsels
-were certainly excellent. “Be humble and
-obedient to your master,” says Sir Henry,
-“... be courteous of gesture.... Give yourself
-to be merie ... but let your mirth be
-ever void of all scurrillitie and biting words
-to any man.... Above all things, tell no
-untruth, no not in trifles”; and he ends
-quaintly: “Well, my little Philip, this is
-enough for me, and I feare too much for
-you.” If my Lord President had not also
-been my Lord Deputy of Ireland one might
-have loved him nearly as much as his son.</p>
-
-<p>Neither he nor Philip ever saw the timbered
-gatehouse that stands opposite to the Old
-School Buildings, but in the red Council<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span>
-House to which it leads, Sir Henry always
-stayed when he made official visits to Shrewsbury.
-There were fine doings on these
-occasions; banquets and processions, with
-“knightly robes most valiant,” and many
-scarlet gowns; masquerades, too, by the boys
-of the school, who appeared now as soldiers,
-now as nymphs, and made orations in both
-characters. Later on the same red house
-sheltered Charles I., when he came here to
-collect men and money. Half the plate in
-the county disappeared into his mint, which
-was set up, some say, in a little tottering
-house that may still be seen in an alley on
-Pride Hill&mdash;a fragment of green and weather-worn
-stone that is one of the most picturesque
-things in Shrewsbury. Some of the money
-that Charles “borrowed” on this occasion
-was well spent in repairing the Castle, which
-is quite near the Council House. The Castle
-is now a private dwelling, and one cannot
-walk about the grounds without permission;
-but the oldest part of it is the great entrance-gate,
-which all may see; the gate that was
-built by Roger de Montgomery and attacked
-by Stephen; the gate through which Henry IV.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span>
-rode out to the famous Battle of Shrewsbury.
-The Castle itself, as it now stands, was
-probably mostly built by Edward I.; but it
-suffered so much through the centuries from
-siege, and treachery, and time, that many
-repairs were necessary to secure it a peaceful
-old age as a dwelling-house. Every motorist
-who is properly grateful to his benefactors,
-will be interested to know that it was the
-engineer Telford who carried out these
-repairs. He actually lived in the Castle for
-a time, I believe, and he certainly built the
-“Laura” tower, which stands on the foundations
-of the old watch-tower. Telford was
-in Shrewsbury when the tower of Old St.
-Chad’s showed signs of collapsing, and, on
-his advice being asked, said the church
-should be repaired without delay. The
-Parish Vestry begged him to meet them in
-St. Chad’s to discuss the matter, and demurred
-so long at the expense that at last Telford
-walked out of the church, saying grimly that
-he would rather talk the matter over in some
-place where there was less danger of the
-roof falling on his head. Two or three days
-later it fell.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Not far from the fragments of this ruined
-church is the High Street, where are some
-of the oldest and prettiest houses in the
-town; and hard by is the Tudor marketplace,
-with its statue of Richard, Duke of
-York. The claims of the Unitarian chapel
-in the same street are not based on beauty,
-but on the fact that Coleridge’s voice once
-rose in it “like a steam of rich distilled
-perfumes,” according to William Hazlitt, who
-had walked ten miles to hear Coleridge
-preach here, and was as much delighted, he
-says, “as if he had heard the music of the
-spheres.” Charles Darwin attended the
-services of this chapel as a boy, but was
-baptized in New St. Chad’s, the eighteenth-century
-church near the Quarry, within
-whose classical walls Dr. Johnson once worshipped.
-The Doctor’s famous rolling walk,
-too, of which we have all heard so much,
-was once seen under the splendid limes of
-the Quarry.</p>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill08" src="images/ill08.jpg" width="412" height="600" alt="" />
-<div>
-<div class="left ilh"><i>Photo by</i>]</div><div class="right ilh">[<i>W. D. Haydon.</i></div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="caption">OLD STREET IN SHREWSBURY.</p></div>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill09" src="images/ill09.jpg" width="600" height="380" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">RICHARD BAXTER’S HOUSE, EATON CONSTANTINE.</p></div>
-
-<p>As we entered Shrewsbury by the English
-Bridge we caught a glimpse of the Abbey
-behind us. Leaving the town by the London
-Road, on our way to see something of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span>
-eastern side of the county, we shall pass
-close by the old red building that was partly
-spared when Roger de Montgomery’s great
-monastery was dissolved. It will be worth
-while to stop the engine for a moment, and
-to look at the massive Norman piers of the
-nave, the fine altar-tombs, and the fragment
-of St. Winifred’s shrine. The founder himself
-was buried here, after a long life of
-storm and stress, and three days in a monk’s
-habit; but the knightly figure that has been
-thought to represent him is said by the best
-authorities to be of a later date than his.
-This Roger is very prominent in Shropshire
-history, and is, indeed, not unknown in that
-of England, for he figured in the Battle of
-Hastings, and wherever he figured he made
-himself felt. We hear many conflicting
-things of his character, but from them all
-we gather that he was a typical man of his
-day, spending his time chiefly in acquiring
-his neighbour’s goods, and his leisure moments
-in building abbeys. Having built this Abbey
-of Shrewsbury he was careful to see that
-other people enriched it, and it soon became
-one of the most important in England. Its<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span>
-actual buildings covered ten acres: yet now
-all of it that we can see is this restored
-church, and, across the road, a relic of a
-later date. There, in the din and dust of a
-coal-yard, stands the graceful stone pulpit
-that was once in the refectory wall. From
-under its delicately carved canopy a lay
-brother read pious works aloud to the monks
-while they ate.</p>
-
-<p>As we drive up the Abbey Foregate, between
-the trees and old houses, the memory
-of the Benedictines is with us still; for it
-was down this road that the monks, with
-their abbot at their head, came once in
-solemn procession with the bones of St. Winifred.
-These, by the combined use of a smooth
-tongue and a stout spade, they had brought
-triumphantly away from the churchyard of
-a Welsh village, knowing full well that no
-wealth of lands and churches enriched a
-monastery so surely as a handful of saintly
-dust.</p>
-
-<p>At the top of the Foregate is the column
-on which Lord Hill stands above a list of
-his battles. Here we keep to the London
-Road, and are soon in the open country.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span>
-We are bound for Boscobel, but as there is
-a good deal to be seen on the way, a round
-of forty-three miles is not as short as it
-seems. Between Shrewsbury and Atcham the
-scenery is not particularly interesting, but
-the road is level and the surface good, so
-we have our compensations. From the
-picturesque bridge at Atcham there is a
-lovely view of distant Caradoc, with the
-Severn in the foreground, and on the river
-bank the old church that is said to have
-been largely built, like that at Wroxeter, of
-the stones from the Roman city of Uriconium.
-We are very near that city now. If we take
-the first turn to the right after leaving
-Atcham, we shall soon be actually passing over
-the ashes of “the White Town in the Woodland,”
-as it was called by the Welsh poet who
-sang of its tragic end; and a moment later
-we shall see, near the roadside, a fragment of
-the wall of its basilica. By asking for the
-key at a cottage close at hand, and by paying
-sixpence, we may see also the remains
-of its public baths, and a piece of tesselated
-pavement that might have been laid down
-yesterday. Many relics of this town that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span>
-was built by the Romans, inhabited by the
-British, and burnt by the Saxons, have been
-found within the limits of the hundred and
-seventy acres that it once covered: skeletons
-of men and women crouching where they
-had vainly sought safety in the hypocausts
-of the burning baths; coins scattered by
-fugitives; pathetic trifles of women’s dress&mdash;hairpins,
-buckles, and a brooch whose pin
-still works. Older than these are the urns
-and tombstones found in the Roman cemetery;
-the tombstone of Petronius, who is
-thought to have taken part in the victory
-over Boadicea; and that of “Placida, aged
-fifty-four, raised by the care of her husband.”
-Most of the relics have been moved, for safe
-keeping, to the Museum in Shrewsbury.</p>
-
-<p>From Uriconium a very pretty road leads
-us to Buildwas. The Severn winds below
-us on the right, and on the hillside to the
-left is the little village of Eaton Constantine,
-which Constantine the Norman&mdash;who
-also gave his name to the Côtentin in
-France&mdash;held in the days of Domesday
-Book at a rental of a pair of white
-gloves, valued at one penny. Even at this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span>
-distance is visible the black-and-white gable
-of the farmhouse that was once the home
-of Richard Baxter, author of “The Saints’
-Everlasting Rest,” and an amazing number
-of other books&mdash;enough, said Judge Jeffreys,
-“to load a cart.” Dr. Johnson, however,
-pronounced them to be “all good.” Here,
-we learn, Baxter “passed away his Childhood
-and Youth, which upon Reflection he,
-according to the Wise Man’s Censure, found
-to be vanity.” In spite of these austere
-views, however, his childhood was not
-without its wild oats, for we are told
-that he “joyn’d sometimes with other
-Naughty Boys in Robbing his Neighbours’
-Orchards of their Fruit, when he had eno’
-at home ... and was bewitched with a
-love of Romances and Idle Tales.”</p>
-
-<p>Presently, after passing through the pretty
-village of Leighton-under-the-Wrekin, we
-see Buildwas, the Shelter near the Water,
-on the further side of the river. Perhaps
-this is the most striking view of the
-fourteen massive pillars of this roofless
-nave, in which the Cistercians of the
-twelfth century austerely worshipped; but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>
-we can visit the ruins if we wish to do
-so by crossing the bridge that has quite
-recently superseded one built by Telford.
-There is not very much more to be seen
-at close quarters than from here: the
-great charm of Buildwas lies in its effect
-as a whole, in its simplicity and strength,
-and in its position by the river.</p>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill10" src="images/ill10.jpg" width="418" height="600" alt="" />
-<div>
-<div class="left ilh"><i>Photo by</i>]</div><div class="right ilh">[<i>W. D. Haydon.</i></div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="caption">BUILDWAS ABBEY.</p></div>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill11" src="images/ill11.jpg" width="600" height="381" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">MADELEY COURT.</p></div>
-
-<p>About a mile beyond Buildwas is Ironbridge,
-named from the first bridge ever
-built in England of iron, which here spans
-the Severn at a height of forty feet, by
-a single arch of a hundred feet in width.
-It was the work of Abraham Darby, the
-third of his name, and was finished in
-1779. A gradient of 1 in 10 takes us
-through Ironbridge, and less than two
-miles further on is Madeley, which appears
-at first sight the very type of all that is
-unromantic, a prey to coal-dust and miners;
-yet if we turn off the main road to the
-left we shall presently find, hidden in a
-hollow near Madeley Court Station, as
-poetic a spot as we shall see in many
-a day’s journey. Perhaps its very contrast
-to its surroundings adds to its<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>
-charm; perhaps to some it may not seem
-charming at all, but merely a tumble-down,
-ill-kept house. But to others this little
-nook, with the weather-stained, crumbling
-walls and tiled gables of the Court House,
-the swinging ivy, the still pond, the bulrushes
-and water-lilies, and the red-and-black
-timbered barn that once sheltered a
-fugitive king, are a “faery land forlorn,”
-the very home of glamour and romance.
-Here Charles II. arrived one night, dressed
-in green breeches and a noggen shirt. He
-was tired and hungry, his hands and face
-were smudged with soot, and he answered
-to the name of William Jones. He was
-refreshed in this house, and spent the
-next day in the barn with Richard
-Penderel, one of the five brothers to whom
-he owed his safety. When night fell he
-walked to Boscobel.</p>
-
-<p>It was hours before he was there,
-whereas we, if we were as much hurried
-as he was, might be there in half an hour
-or so. But though there is nothing to
-keep us at Shifnal we must pause at Tong,
-where there are some especially pretty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span>
-timbered cottages and a church that is
-really remarkable, for it contains a collection
-of tombs which I should imagine to
-be unequalled in a village church. They
-are those of the Vernon family, and
-among them is that of Dame Margaret
-Stanley, the sister of Dorothy Vernon, of
-Haddon Hall. Charles Dickens said himself
-that it was of Tong Village he was
-thinking when he wrote the end of “The
-Old Curiosity Shop,” and those to whom
-Little Nell appeals may think of her and
-her grandfather in the porch of this
-church. Some of us, however, will take
-more interest in the shot-marks that have
-scarred the northern wall ever since the
-days of the Civil War.</p>
-
-<p>In a park near the village stands the
-astonishing structure called Tong Castle.
-It was once a real castle of stone; in the
-sixteenth century Sir Henry Vernon rebuilt
-it of brick; in the eighteenth a new owner
-thought that Moorish cupolas would make
-a pretty finish to it. When, in 1643, it was
-in the possession of the Parliamentarians, it
-was said on that account to be a “great<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span>
-eye-sore to his Majesty’s good subjects who
-pass’d yt road.” For other reasons it is
-so still.</p>
-
-<p>A writer of the seventeenth century
-describes Boscobel as “a very obscure habitation,
-situate in a kind of wilderness”;
-and no doubt it was to this obscurity that
-Charles II. owed his safety. Even to-day it
-is wonderfully isolated, and we reach it by
-a series of rather circuitous by-roads; but
-we can drive right up to the house, and
-leave our car in a safe enclosure, while we
-walk a hundred yards to the Royal Oak&mdash;not
-the original “asylum of the most potent
-prince King Charles II. ... the oak beloved
-by Jove,”<a name="FNanchor_1" id="FNanchor_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> which was mostly made into snuff-boxes
-and other treasures for the loyal&mdash;but
-an oak grown from an acorn of that
-“fortunate tree.” When Charles reached
-Boscobel at three o’clock in the morning he
-was taken into the big panelled room that
-we shall presently see, and was refreshed
-with bread and cheese and a posset of milk
-and beer. Colonel Carlis, another fugitive<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span>
-from Worcester, “pulled off his Majesty’s
-shoos, which were full of gravel, and
-stockens which were very wet,” and at daybreak
-went with him into the wood, where
-they both climbed into the oak&mdash;here,
-where we are standing&mdash;with a cushion
-for his Majesty to sit on. Here, for a
-great part of the day, the tired King
-slept with his head on Colonel Carlis’s
-knee. “He bore all these hardships and
-afflictions with incomparable patience,” says
-a contemporary historian. At night he was
-hidden in the house, buried beneath the
-garret floor in a box-like priest’s-hole, with
-a load of cheese on the lid. We may
-climb the stairs and see it; get into it if
-we will&mdash;and ask ourselves if, after spending
-a night in it, we should be as lighthearted
-as this man who at any moment
-might lose his life and had already lost
-everything else. In the morning he called
-for a frying-pan and butter, and, having
-first despatched Colonel Carlis with a
-dagger to slaughter a neighbour’s sheep,
-he gaily cooked himself some mutton
-collops, while the Colonel, “being but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span>
-under-cook (and that honour enough too),
-made the fire and turned the collops in
-the pan.”</p>
-
-<p>From Boscobel we strike due north to
-Ivetsey Bank, where we shall find an inn
-capable of providing a good, if homely,
-luncheon or tea. Thence sixteen miles on
-Watling Street will bring us without a
-pause (<i>unberufen!</i>) through Wellington to
-the point where we left the main road on
-our outward journey. It is worth while,
-by the way, to avoid the unpleasant bit
-of road through Oakengates by striking
-across to the main road from Shifnal; to
-do which we must take a turn in St.
-George’s, where a lamp-post stands out
-prominently. We enter Shrewsbury, as we
-left it, by the London Road.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>A slightly longer run, covering about fifty
-miles altogether, will show us something of
-the northern part of the county on its
-western side. We drive out of the town
-past the station and through the squalid
-suburb of Ditherington, where, for love of
-our springs and of humanity, we must<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>
-perforce drive slowly, by reason of the
-bumpiness of the surface and the phenomenal
-number of children. Over this ground rode
-Henry IV. and Prince Hal to the Battle
-of Shrewsbury, and there on our right is
-Haughmond Hill, the “busky hill” to which
-Shakespeare refers. Presently there appears
-on the left, a few hundred yards away
-from the road, the church of Battlefield,
-raised, with the exception of the tower,
-quite soon after the battle on the spot
-where the fight raged most fiercely, in
-order that masses might be sung perpetually
-“for the prosperity of the King and
-the souls of the slain.” Here Harry Hotspur
-died, and with him thousands of others
-both gentle and simple, for this was a very
-notable fight and many interests were concerned
-in it. Beneath the mounds that we
-see on the south side of the church are the
-bones of many of the slain. The King “had
-many marching in his coats,” as Hotspur
-puts it in “Henry IV.,” and as they were
-killed in mistake for him he saved himself
-by a device more ingenious than kingly.</p>
-
-<p>There is nothing of special note between<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span>
-Battlefield and Hawkestone, which is about
-twelve miles from Shrewsbury, and is a
-private park, open to visitors. In the rhododendron
-season it is well worth while to
-leave one’s car at the extremely nice hotel
-at the outskirts of the park, and to walk
-about a mile through pretty grounds swarming
-with black rabbits, to see the blaze of
-blossom for which Hawkestone is famous.
-And yet I think they will fare still better
-who choose the time of bluebells. These
-should drive through the park by the public
-road. Beyond the gate, where the stream is
-close to them on the right and woods slope
-to its edge, they will see, bright in the near
-foreground but fading away into the distance
-under the trees in a misty cloud, a soft,
-ethereal veil of grey-blue. Here and there
-the green breaks through, and the flowers
-look like wisps of smoke trailing across the
-grass. This wonderful sheet of mystic blue
-borders the river and the road for some
-way, till the wood ends suddenly, and Hodnet
-Hall comes in sight.</p>
-
-<p>One really grows a little tired of recording
-the picturesqueness of Shropshire villages.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span>
-They are nearly all pretty: for the houses,
-when they are not of timber and plaster,
-are often built of the warm red sandstone
-that is the stone of the county and acquires
-such soft, mellow colours in its old age. But
-I sometimes think Hodnet is the prettiest
-village of them all. Half the houses are
-black-and-white; and near the church gate a
-group of timber gables, with the octagonal
-tower in the background, forms a complete and
-perfectly composed picture. Bishop Reginald
-Heber, the author of “From Greenland’s icy
-mountains,” was rector of Hodnet for some
-years before he sailed for “India’s coral strand.”</p>
-
-<p>From Hodnet we may either drive back to
-Shrewsbury or turn to the left in the middle
-of the village and take a run of about thirty-four
-miles by Market Drayton and Newport,
-two picturesque old towns with a good road
-between them. The scenery in this part of the
-county is pleasing, but not especially striking.
-If we choose this way we shall, as we draw
-near Shrewsbury, pass the ruins of Haughmond,
-one of the great Shropshire abbeys.</p>
-
-<p>Long ago there was a hermitage at the
-foot of this “busky hill”; before William<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span>
-FitzAlan’s monastery for Austin Canons rose
-here, with the great church that has practically
-disappeared,<a name="FNanchor_2" id="FNanchor_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> and the tall gable with
-the turrets that are so conspicuous to-day,
-and the chapter-house with the beautiful
-doorway. This Abbey was greatly patronised
-by royalty. Stephen gave it a mill, Matilda
-gave it lands “for the remission of her
-sins,” Henry II. gave churches, and Henry III.
-more land, and Llewelyn of Wales “a moiety
-of Kenwicke.” The list of other benefactions
-is endless: mills and fisheries, churches and
-markets, woods and hogs and herds. Many
-were the “privileges of flesh and fish”
-enjoyed by the canons of Haughmond; and
-Abbot Nicholas, in Edward III.’s time, desiring
-to make the most of all these luxuries,
-built a new kitchen for the brethren and
-“appointed them a cook to dress their food.”
-It was in 1541 that Henry VIII., as his
-manner was, took possession of Haughmond
-and all its riches, “beyng mynded to take
-the same into his own handes for a better<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span>
-purpose”; and so the minster, for which he
-had no use, gradually vanished. Nothing is
-left of it but a fragment of wall and a
-doorway. Two tombs that were once within
-the chancel now lie open to the sky on the
-hillside, where their appeal for the prayers
-of the passers-by is of far more pathetic
-force than it ever was under the shelter of
-the Abbey’s roof:&mdash;</p>
-
-<blockquote>
-
-<p>“<i>Vous Ki Passez Par Ici Priez Pur L’Alme Johan
-Fitz Aleine Ki Git Ici. Deu De Sa Alme
-Eit Merci. Amen.</i>”</p>
-
-<p>“<i>Isabel De Mortimer Sa Femme Acost De Li. Deu
-De Lur Alme Eit Merci. Amen.</i>”</p></blockquote>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill12" src="images/ill12.jpg" width="600" height="379" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">HAUGHMOND ABBEY.</p></div>
-
-<p>From this road near Haughmond we have
-perhaps the loveliest view of distant Shrewsbury.
-The pale hills rim the horizon, the
-river winds in the foreground, and between
-them rise the clear outlines of the two incomparable
-spires that crown The Delight.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Another of the Shropshire monasteries that
-must certainly be seen is Wenlock Priory,
-which lies on the way to Bridgnorth. It is
-a fairly level road that leads to it by Cross
-Houses and Cound and pretty Cressage, which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span>
-in Domesday Book is Cristes-ache, or Christ’s
-Oak. Christianity was preached here, it is
-said, under an old oak-tree, in days so early
-that when St. Augustine visited the place he
-found it already Christian. Between Harley
-and Wenlock there is a hill which the Contour
-Book describes with perfect accuracy as
-“a precipitous hill on which innumerable
-accidents have happened.” The accidents, I
-fancy, have mostly happened to horse-drawn
-vehicles and bicycles&mdash;especially the latter&mdash;when
-descending the hill, for it is a mile
-long and has a turn in the middle. There
-is no reason why it should inconvenience a
-good car, for the average gradient is nothing
-more alarming than 1 in 8, and it is well
-worth climbing for the sake of the wide
-view from the top, just beyond which Much
-Wenlock lies.</p>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill13" src="images/ill13.jpg" width="419" height="600" alt="" />
-<div>
-<div class="left ilh"><i>Photo by</i>]</div><div class="right ilh">[<i>W. D. Haydon.</i></div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="caption">WENLOCK PRIORY, ST. JOHN’S CHAPEL.</p></div>
-
-<p>Milburga, Saxon princess and saint, built
-the first religious house at Wenlock, and
-became its abbess, and was finally buried
-within its precincts. William of Malmesbury
-tells us how, long after her death, she enriched
-the place to which she had given her
-life and all she possessed. “Milburga,” he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span>
-says, “reposes at Wenlock ... but for some
-time after the arrival of the Normans,
-through ignorance of the place of her burial,
-she was neglected. Lately, however, a convent
-of Clugniac monks being established
-there, while a new church was erecting, a
-certain boy, running violently along the
-pavement, broke into the hollow of the
-vault, and discovered the body of the virgin,
-when a balsamic odour pervading the whole
-church, she was taken up, and performed so
-many miracles that the people flocked thither
-in great multitudes. Large spreading plains
-could hardly contain the troops of pilgrims,
-while rich and poor came side by side, one
-common faith compelling all.”</p>
-
-<p>The convent of Clugniac monks in question
-was built by that notable man Roger de
-Montgomery, and was the same whose ruins
-speak so plainly to-day of the ornate tastes
-of the monks of Clugny. We saw no arcaded
-walls such as these of the chapter-house,
-nor richly moulded doorways, nor any such
-elaborate ornament at Cistercian Buildwas,
-whose lands marched with the lands of this
-Priory, and whose monks found the Rule of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>
-Clugny too soft, the tastes of Clugny too
-enervating. Go to Wenlock in the spring,
-when its slender columns rise above a sea
-of sweet-scented flowers, and its old wall is
-bright with rock-plants&mdash;for the Priory stands
-in private grounds and is cared for like
-a garden. It is the third religious house
-that has stood on this spot, for between the
-days of Milburga, the royal saint, and those
-of Roger and his Clugniacs, there was
-another monastery founded here by Leofric
-of Mercia and his wife Godiva, a well-loved
-woman whom we are glad to connect with
-this beautiful spot. The picturesque old
-Prior’s Lodge is inhabited, and it is only on
-Tuesdays and Fridays that the world at large
-is admitted to the ruins. Perhaps nothing
-recalls to one so vividly the daily life of
-the monks in this place as the long causeway
-that stretches across the field near the Priory
-garden. It was here that the brothers took
-their daily exercise, raised above the surrounding
-marsh&mdash;a long procession of dark
-figures, walking slowly to and fro&mdash;and
-among them, unsuspected, that interesting
-swashbuckler of whom we long to hear more,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span>
-that man of extremes whose strange career
-is all summed up for us in one short, pregnant
-sentence. “In 1283,” we learn, “a
-brother of Wenlac became a captain of
-banditti.” We hear no more of him, alas!
-except that he was hanged.</p>
-
-<p>The road to Bridgnorth is a continuation
-of the one by which we entered the town,
-so we must drive back, past the beautiful
-old Guildhall and market-place, up the street
-to the Gaskell Arms, where we may have
-luncheon if, as may well occur to motorists,
-we are too hungry to wait till we reach
-the more imposing “Crown” at Bridgnorth.
-At the Gaskell Arms we turn sharply to
-the left, and thence eight or nine miles of
-good road, with several steep hills, will bring
-us to Bridgnorth.</p>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill14" src="images/ill14.jpg" width="600" height="424" alt="" />
-<div>
-<div class="left ilh"><i>Photo by</i>]</div><div class="right ilh">[<i>W. D. Haydon.</i></div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="caption">WENLOCK PRIORY, CHAPTER HOUSE.</p></div>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill15" src="images/ill15.jpg" width="600" height="484" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">BISHOP PERCY’S BIRTHPLACE, BRIDGNORTH.</p></div>
-
-<p>Ever since the Danes built a fort here this
-town, nearly as consistently as Shrewsbury
-and Ludlow, has concerned itself with
-history. It has been visited by half the
-kings of England. Henry I. besieged it;
-Henry II. defended it; John and Edward I.
-stayed in it; Edward II. took refuge in it;
-Henry IV. gathered his army here on his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>
-way to the Battle of Shrewsbury; Charles I.
-was besieged here by Cromwell, who narrowly
-escaped death before the walls. The
-Castle, of course, was the centre of interest
-on all these occasions&mdash;the Castle that was
-built so hurriedly by Robert de Belesme,
-Roger de Montgomery’s son, and is now so
-conspicuous on account of its leaning tower.
-Round its ruins is a path that must be
-practically the same as that which Charles I.
-declared to be as pleasant a walk as any in
-his kingdom. Robert de Belesme, who has
-been described with apparent justice as “an
-implacable villain,” also founded the church
-of St. Mary Magdalene, but the present
-building was designed by Telford. Another
-interesting church is St. Leonard’s, where in
-the churchyard the Roundheads once beat
-the Royalists in a skirmish, and where
-Richard Baxter was a curate. He lived in
-the little black-and-white cottage close at
-hand, and seems to have had a poor
-opinion of his flock. “He found the people
-here generally ignorant and dead-hearted,”
-he says, “... so that though by his first
-Labours among them he was Instrumental<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span>
-in the Conversion of several Persons, and
-was generally Applauded, yet ... Tippling
-and Ill Company rendred his Preaching
-ineffectual.” If his preaching was ineffectual
-it at all events began early, for “when
-he was a little Boy in Coats, if he heard
-other Children in Play speak Profane Words
-he would reprove them, to the wonder of
-those that heard him.” At this time&mdash;when
-he was a little Boy in Coats&mdash;he lived
-at Rowton in this county; it was not till
-he was ten years old that he moved to
-Eaton Constantine and indulged in dark
-deeds in his neighbours’ orchards.</p>
-
-<p>An extremely steep dip with an awkward
-corner in the middle of it will take us
-to the birthplace of another famous divine,
-Bishop Percy, best known in connection
-with “Percy’s Reliques.” The house, which
-stands in the Cartway, may be approached
-quite comfortably from below, and is worth
-seeing for its own sake, being a good
-example of black-and-white work.</p>
-
-<p>Our best way home from here is by
-Ironbridge and Buildwas, on the road by
-which we drove to Boscobel. Between<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span>
-Bridgnorth and Ironbridge some of the
-country is pretty, and at Broseley especially
-it must have been lovely in its natural
-state, before it was ruined by the potteries.
-We cross the river by Abraham Darby’s
-iron bridge.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>A run of forty-seven miles or so, by
-Wem, Whitchurch, and Ellesmere, will show
-us a good deal of the north-west part of
-the county, and if, when we reach Whitchurch,
-we choose to lengthen the distance
-to fifty-four miles by slipping over the
-Welsh border to Overton and Erbistock, we
-shall not regret it.</p>
-
-<p>We leave Shrewsbury by the road that
-branches to the left immediately opposite
-to the station. Almost at once, at the
-point where the road touches the Severn,
-we pass a long, low house of timber and
-plaster on our right. It was from this
-house that Admiral Benbow ran away to
-sea. He was living here as an apprentice,
-to his father or another, and, since it was
-the custom to entrust the house-key to the
-care of the apprentice, he had, fortunately<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span>
-for himself and England, special facilities
-for making his escape. He hid the key in
-the tree that is marked with a ring of
-whitewash, and stands between the house
-and the railings; and there to this day it
-hangs.</p>
-
-<p>Between Shrewsbury and Whitchurch
-there is nothing of particular interest
-except the old farmhouse called Albright
-Hussey, which stands in a field on the
-right about three miles out of Shrewsbury.
-It is a pretty old moated house, partly
-black-and-white; but its greatest beauty is
-within, where there is as charming a room
-as one need wish to see, a room to make a
-housewife weep tears of covetousness&mdash;low,
-oblong, oak-panelled to the ceiling, with
-seats in the mullioned windows and a carved
-fireplace. The house is inhabited, but I
-believe there is never any difficulty in
-obtaining leave to see it. Its sixteenth-century
-walls were once threatened by a
-party of Parliamentarian horse. There were
-only eight men to defend the place, but
-their leader was a crafty man, and shouted
-his orders aloud within hearing of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span>
-enemy. “Let ten men stay here, and ten
-go there, and twenty stay with me!” he
-cried; and the attacking force, dismayed
-by the number of mythical defenders, rode
-away and left the stone and timber, the
-mullioned windows and oaken wainscotes,
-to be a joy to us to-day.</p>
-
-<p>In Wem, however, through which we
-presently pass, it was the “Parliament
-men” who were in the ascendent. The
-place acted a prominent part in the Civil
-War, and has a history many centuries long,
-but on the surface is commonplace enough.
-In the List of the Owners of the Manor of
-Wem the twenty-fourth name is the grim
-one of “Sir George Jeffreys, Knight and
-Baronet, and Lord Chief Justice of the
-King’s Bench, created in 1685 a peer of
-England by the style and title of Baron
-Jeffreys of Wem.”</p>
-
-<p>At Whitchurch we must draw up at the
-door of St. Alkmund’s Church; not because
-it is old or beautiful, for the original church
-fell down in 1711 and was entirely rebuilt;
-nor because Dean Swift subscribed to the
-rebuilding of it; but because it contains the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>
-dust of the great Talbot, first Earl of
-Shrewsbury, “the scourge of France.” His
-valiant heart lies beneath the white stone
-in the porch, where careless thousands
-have trodden it underfoot. It was found
-there in an urn when the church was
-rebuilt, and with it were some figures of
-Christ and the Virgin Mary from Talbot’s
-rosary. His bones are in the chancel,
-whither, about fifty years after his death,
-they were brought from the battlefield of
-Chastillon, where a little chapel had been
-raised on the spot where he fell.<a name="FNanchor_3" id="FNanchor_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> His
-effigy lies on a tomb that is an exact
-copy of the original one. While this
-restoration was in progress the bones of
-the great soldier were shown to the
-public, with the skull cleft by the axe that
-killed him. “This is that terrible Talbot,”
-says Thomas Fuller, “so famous for his
-sword ... which constantly conquered
-where it came, insomuch that the bare
-fame of his approach frighted the French
-from the siege of Bordeaux. Being<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span>
-victorious for twenty-four years together,
-success failed him at last.... Henceforward
-we may say ‘Good-night to the
-English in France,’ whose victories were
-buried with the body of this earl.”</p>
-
-<p>From Whitchurch we drive about fourteen
-miles in a westerly direction to Overton
-Bridge, by Hanmer and Overton village, a
-pretty little place with a churchyard surrounded
-by yew-trees. Having crossed the
-bridge, which is about two miles beyond
-the village, we turn to the left at right
-angles and approach Erbistock by a road
-whose greatest recommendation to inveterate
-lovers of speed will be that it is short. After
-one experience, however, most of us will
-agree, I think, that this by-road needs no
-recommendation but the fact that it leads
-to Erbistock. A tiny church and a tiny inn
-at the brim of the Dee&mdash;that is all that
-there is at Erbistock. But it is all enclosed
-in trees, and the trees dip into the river,
-and the river is rather big and gentle and
-gurgles sweetly at one’s feet, and the woods
-on the other side are tangled and mysterious
-and full of fairies. One may have one’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span>
-tea close beside the water, or one may cross
-the river in a ferry, and soon be quite alone
-in the woods. There is no need to hurry,
-for when we leave Erbistock we need not
-stop again till we reach Shrewsbury.</p>
-
-<p>For Ellesmere, “wher was a castelle,”
-says Leland, “and very fair polis yet be,”
-has now nothing left of its castle but the
-memory of it, and the fair pools may be
-seen as we pass. More than once Ellesmere
-was given as a dowry to the daughters of
-English kings, on their marriage with Cymric
-princes; for as the rulers of the two countries
-were sure to fall out soon after the wedding
-the gift was quickly taken back by the donor,
-and so was ready for the next bride. Thus,
-though Henry II. gave it to his sister Emma,
-there was nothing to prevent King John
-from giving it to his daughter Joan, twenty-seven
-years later, when she married Llewelyn
-the Great.</p>
-
-<p>I think it must have been beside the lake,
-where on the level ground there would be
-room for the dramatic scene, that Rupert,
-halting here at Ellesmere, made his prisoners
-cast lots upon the drum to decide which of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span>
-them should die. Thirteen were doomed;
-but at the last moment one of them was
-saved by Sir Vincent Corbet, who as he rode
-past interceded for the man, who had been
-a servant in his family. The rest were
-hanged there and then. Yet it is not they
-who haunt the rushy banks of the mere;
-but the White Lady of Oteley. Long ago,
-it is said, she robbed and ruined a monastery,
-and built herself a home here with the
-spoils&mdash;a home that she has never left since
-then, except to walk by night along the
-margin of the water. She was not even
-allowed to move to the new house when
-it was built about a hundred years ago,
-for a fragment of the old one was left
-standing in the park on purpose for her
-accommodation. The new house faces us
-very conspicuously as we drive close beside
-the water on the opposite side of the mere,
-and go on our way to Shrewsbury, which is
-about sixteen miles away.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>In the south-west, which is the hilliest,
-and therefore the prettiest, part of Shropshire,
-there is a variety of little runs, which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span>
-may be lengthened or shortened according
-to circumstances and tastes. A pretty round
-of about fifty miles is by Chirbury and
-Bishop’s Castle, whence either of two lovely
-roads will bring us back to Shrewsbury.
-Nineteen miles of nearly level road lead to
-Chirbury through several villages&mdash;Westbury,
-Worthen, Marton, and others&mdash;all of which
-are fairly picturesque, but with nothing very
-noteworthy about them. Just before Marton
-is reached there is an exceedingly sharp
-turn, which should be borne in mind. At
-Chirbury our road turns to the left in the
-middle of the village.</p>
-
-<p>The name of this obscure little place has
-been known to the world for some centuries
-in connection with that strange person Lord
-Herbert of Chirbury, half ruffler, half
-scholar, who in a house only a few miles
-from here, across the Welsh border, wrote
-the famous autobiography that Horace
-Walpole called “perhaps the most extraordinary
-account that was ever given seriously
-by a wise man of himself.” His home
-for the greater part of his life, when he
-was not seeking adventures and duels in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span>
-France or London, was in Montgomery
-Castle, whose ruins we may see by driving
-four miles further. Nothing but a fragment
-is left of it now, but when the Herberts
-lived there it must have been a fine sight
-on its wild crag; a more fitting home for
-Edward the soldier than for his gentler and
-still more famous brother George. Chirbury
-itself had a castle and a priory once; but
-of the castle, which was built by the ever
-active Ethelfleda, nothing remains but the
-site; and of the monastery there are only
-fragments left, for the present church,
-ancient as it is, was not used by the monks,
-but was then, as now, the parish church.<a name="FNanchor_4" id="FNanchor_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a>
-It has seen strange doings. It is hard to
-realise, when the bells ring in this lonely
-little village, and the quiet country folk
-take their seats for the morning service,
-that here within these very walls the congregation
-of Chirbury was once electrified
-by the clashing of armour and the clatter
-of horses’ hoofs in the aisle. It was during
-the Civil War, and Mr. Edward Lewis, “a
-very goodly man, did preach twice a day”;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span>
-a rash thing for a Puritan to do when
-Captain Corbet was no further off than
-Caus Castle. A party of Royalist horse “rode
-into the church to the great fright and
-amazement of the people; and with their
-pistols charged and cocked went up into
-the pulpit and pulled down Mr. Lewis,
-pulling and tugging him in a most unworthy
-manner ... and so left the people
-without their pastor because they would
-not be content with one sermon a day.”</p>
-
-<p>It was this same Edward Lewis who
-brought to Chirbury the chained library
-that almost certainly belonged to George
-Herbert; for Isaac Walton tells us of “a
-choice library which Mr. Herbert had
-fastened with chains in a fit room in
-Montgomery Castle.” This choice library
-contains books dating from 1530 to 1684,
-and among them is a black-letter folio copy
-of Chaucer. They are kept in the vicarage,
-and I believe may be seen by any one.</p>
-
-<p>Turning to the left in Chirbury we soon
-pass Marrington Hall, or <i>Havodwen</i>, the
-White Summer-house, as the Welsh call it;
-a very fine example of sixteenth-century<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span>
-black-and-white work. The lovely little
-valley beyond it is Marrington Dingle, and
-a mile or two further on is Churchstoke. It
-is in this pretty part of Shropshire that
-the uses of the motor-car are especially
-noticeable, for railway stations are few and
-distant from each other, and the hilliness of
-the country is not encouraging to bicyclists.
-Of Bishop’s Castle there is little to be said,
-for pretty as the country is all round it, the
-town itself is unattractive, and the castle
-is no more. But all the ways back to
-Shrewsbury from here are lovely. We may
-join the Stretton road, which we already
-know, at Marshbrook, and so see one of the
-most charming little bits of wooded country
-in Shropshire; or we may follow the hilly
-road through the wild scenery near Ratlinghope,
-down Cothercott Hill, and through
-Longden and Hookagate. Cothercott Hill
-is very steep and has a bad surface, but
-it is only for a short way that the gradient
-is really severe, and the view from
-the top is one of the wildest in the country.
-Personally, however, I should recommend
-the third way back to Shrewsbury&mdash;over<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span>
-the moor to the Roman Gravels, and down
-through the woods of the winding Hope
-Valley to Minsterley.</p>
-
-<p>As there is nothing in the whole of this
-little run to delay us, we may lengthen it,
-if our car is good on hills and we are of
-an enterprising temperament, by going on
-from Bishop’s Castle to Clun, or even to
-Knighton, and round by Leintwardine to
-join the Ludlow road. This is a beautiful
-bit of country, and full of interest. Leland
-tells us of the “faire forest of Clun.”
-“Cumming from Bisshop’s Castelle to Clunne
-lordshippe,” he says, “cummeth doune a
-greate woode grouing on a hille.” Much of
-this great wood is gone now, but there is
-still enough to make the country very
-“faire,” and to compensate a motorist for
-the climbing of a long hill. Suddenly, as
-we round a corner, Clun comes into sight
-between two hills, with the stern tower of
-its castle standing conspicuously above the
-river. “Clunne Castell,” says Leland, “longynge
-to the Erle of Arundel, sumewhat
-ruinus. It hath bene bothe stronge and
-well builded.” It is more than somewhat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>
-ruinous now, which is hardly surprising
-when one considers all it has gone through
-at the hands of Welshmen and Roundheads
-since it was built in Stephen’s reign.
-There is a story that the stones of which
-it is made were passed from hand to hand
-by a chain of men, from the quarry, a mile
-away, to the river-bank where the castle
-stands; but be that as it may, these crumbling
-stones, with their soft tints of grey
-and yellow, embody enough romance to
-satisfy us, I think, seeing that they are
-connected with all the greatest names of
-Wales. They have been stormed and burnt
-by Rhys of the south; they have been
-attacked in vain by great Llewelyn of the
-north; they have been overcome by Owen
-Glyndwr. They are connected with modern
-romance, too, for it is supposed that the
-“Garde Dolareuse,” in the “Betrothed,”
-represents the Castle of Clun, and the
-Buffalo Inn claims to have sheltered Sir
-Walter Scott while he was writing part of
-the book.</p>
-
-<p>Everything is old at Clun: the church; the
-fine old bridge, of whose building there is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span>
-no record; and the “Hospital of the Holy
-and Undivided Trinity at Clunn,” which was
-founded by the Duke of Norfolk in 1614 for
-distressed tradesmen, who were each to
-receive yearly “a gown ready-made of
-strong cloth or kersey, of a sad colour.”</p>
-
-<p>The road between Clun and Knighton is
-not one to be undertaken lightly by small
-cars of uncertain hill-climbing powers, for it
-is mostly composed of long and precipitous
-hills, with gradients varying from 1 in 8
-to 1 in 10; but the surface is good, and
-though the scenery is not particularly interesting
-at first, it becomes really lovely as
-we draw near Knighton, which lies in a
-valley, surrounded by wooded hills. Here
-we turn to the left, and by way of compensation
-the road from Knighton to Leintwardine
-is particularly level, along a narrow
-valley between green hills that belong to
-Shropshire on the left and to Herefordshire
-on the right. As the valley widens out
-into open country we reach Brampton Brian,
-associated for ever with the name of Brilliana,
-Lady Harley. That gallant-hearted
-lady was alone in her husband’s castle of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span>
-Brampton when it was threatened by the
-forces of Charles I., for the Harleys were
-“Parliament men.” “I acknowleg,” she
-writes, “I doe not thinke meself safe
-wheare I am.” Safe she certainly was not,
-but she thanked God that she was “not
-afraide”; and when the Royalists bade her
-surrender she simply answered, “I must
-endeavour to keep what is mine as well as
-I can, in which I have the law of nature, of
-reason, and of the law on my side, and you
-none to take it from me.” The siege lasted
-some weeks, and Lady Harley, always delicate,
-suffered greatly; but when pressed to
-yield said “she would rather choose an
-honourable death.” She died; but this first
-siege was raised before her “heavenly and
-happy end,” and so she never knew that the
-castle was besieged again, was surrendered,
-and burnt to the ground.<a name="FNanchor_5" id="FNanchor_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a></p>
-
-<p>A few miles further on is Leintwardine,
-which I believe to be full of antiquarian
-interest, and know to be picturesque as an
-artist’s dream; and here, if we care to face
-a narrow byway with a rough surface, we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>
-may leave the main road and take the
-more direct route to Craven Arms by way
-of Clungunford. At Craven Arms we rejoin
-the road from Ludlow to Shrewsbury.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Of the many main roads that converge
-in Shrewsbury I have left to the last the
-one that is in some ways the most important,
-the one that is certainly the most
-famous; that road of great memories and
-great achievement, by which so many Royal
-Mails have travelled breathlessly at the
-dashing pace of eleven miles an hour, and
-by which we may travel to-day at a pace
-that nothing shall induce me to betray:
-Telford’s road to Holyhead. It is the road
-by which, if we are fortunate, we are going
-into North Wales. If, however, it is our sad
-fate to turn our backs on that most beautiful
-land, we must on no account neglect
-to run over to Llangollen, a distance of
-thirty miles: for though I have left it to
-the last on the assumption that we are
-going on to Wales, it is one of the most
-enjoyable drives in this neighbourhood.</p>
-
-<p>We leave Shrewsbury by the Welsh<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span>
-Bridge, the scene of Henry VII.’s remarkable
-entry into the town over the body of
-the stout, wise bailiff; and as we reach the
-top of the hill beyond it we pass on the
-right the house in which Charles Darwin
-was born. At the corner where the Holyhead
-road turns sharply to the right, about
-half a mile beyond the last houses of the
-town, there stands in a private garden a
-famous tree known as the Shelton Oak. I
-mention it merely because its fame rests on
-a libel. There are those who will tell you&mdash;cheerfully
-taking a great man’s name in
-vain&mdash;that Owen Glyndwr sat in this tree
-watching the Battle of Shrewsbury when he
-should have been taking part in it. Our
-knowledge of this fiery prince’s characteristics
-might be enough, one would think,
-to discredit the tale, without the proved
-fact that he was extremely occupied in
-South Wales at the time! But still the tale
-is told.</p>
-
-<p>Soon, at Montford Bridge, we cross the
-Severn, white with water-weeds in the summer,
-and fringed with purple wild-flowers,
-and then, with what speed we may, spin<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span>
-happily towards the Welsh hills. We can
-see them on our left; the striking outline
-of the Breidden, with Rodney’s Pillar on
-its topmost point, and beyond it a long
-blue range that limits all the western horizon.
-At one spot only we have a choice of
-roads. Telford’s road goes by Oswestry, an
-ancient town with an immense history but
-few relics; but if at the “Queen’s Head,”
-fourteen miles from Shrewsbury, we turn to
-the right, following the telegraph-posts, we
-shall cut off more than a mile of distance
-and shall see Whittington.</p>
-
-<p>There are some places that are peculiarly
-haunted. One is infinitely more conscious
-in them of the past than of the present.
-Such are Hay and Beaupré&mdash;both of which
-we shall see later on. But Whittington is
-not so much haunted as haunting. Hay and
-Beaupré are enchanted: Whittington is itself
-the enchantment. It stands in a clump of
-trees by the wayside, in the middle of the
-village, and one comes upon it suddenly: a
-great fortified gateway of pale grey stone,
-reflected in the weed-grown water of what
-was once its moat&mdash;and leading nowhere.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span>
-One thinks, not of its history, but of itself.
-One cannot believe that it is merely the
-entrance to a vanished mediæval castle; it
-is rather the Gate of Dreams, through which
-every man sometimes passes in search of his
-heart’s desire.</p>
-
-<p>There is an old Norman-French romance
-that tells us how the White Tower was built
-by William Peverel of the Peak, and how he
-promised it as a dowry to Melette, the fairest
-of his nieces. “But none found favour with
-her. And William reasoned with her, and
-besought her that she would discover unto
-him if there was in the world any knight
-whom she would take for lord.... ‘Certes,
-Sire,’ said she, ‘no knight is there in all the
-world that I would take for the sake of riches
-and the honour of lands, but if I ever take
-such an one he shall be handsome, and
-courteous, and the most valiant of his order
-in Christendom.’” So William proclaimed a
-tourney at the Peak, with Melette and the
-White Tower for the prize; and among those
-who came to try their fortune was one
-Guarin de Metz, well clad in red samite, with
-a crest of gold. “To record the blows and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span>
-the issues I am not minded,” says the story,
-“but Guarin de Metz and his company proved
-that day the best, the fairest, and the most
-valiant, and above all, Guarin was the most
-praised in all ways.” So Guarin won the
-fastidious Melette of the White Tower, “and
-with great joy did he take her, and the
-damsel him.”<a name="FNanchor_6" id="FNanchor_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a></p>
-
-<p>This romance is not very reliable history,
-I fear, but it is true that Whittington belonged
-at one time to the Peverels, and later
-to the Fitz-Warines or Guarins, of whom it
-was probably the third who built this gate in
-the reign of John.</p>
-
-<p>Two miles beyond Whittington is Gobowen,
-where we rejoin the main road; and soon
-afterwards we dip into the narrow valley
-below Chirk, and with the railway and the
-canal high above us on the left, cross the
-little Ceiriog into Wales.</p>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill16" src="images/ill16.jpg" width="600" height="384" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">WHITTINGTON CASTLE.</p></div>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill17" src="images/ill17.jpg" width="600" height="381" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">THE LLEDR VALLEY, FROM THE HOLYHEAD ROAD.</p></div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a><br /><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a><br /><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-<h2><a name="A_TOUR_IN_NORTH_WALES" id="A_TOUR_IN_NORTH_WALES">A TOUR IN NORTH WALES</a></h2>
-
-<p>Here, on the very border of Wales, one
-is conscious of the Celtic atmosphere.
-We left the quiet orderliness of England
-behind us when we dipped down into this
-little valley, where the sparkling, bubbling
-Ceiriog&mdash;every inch a Celt&mdash;calls to us to
-follow it up into the hills. And so we will,
-as soon as we have climbed the other side
-of the valley into Chirk village; turning
-there to the left, though our rightful road,
-the road to Llangollen, lies directly in front
-of us. In Wales we shall find ourselves
-constantly tempted to leave the highway,
-and in most cases we shall be rewarded if
-we yield to the temptation without ado. In
-this particular case we shall be rewarded
-with a dear little glen, feathery birch-trees
-on the steep slopes, a yellow carpet in prim<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span>rose
-time, and a most charming little hotel
-about six miles up the valley, at Glyn
-Ceiriog.</p>
-
-<p>Near Chirk the road sweeps round under
-the trees of the deer-park, where “there is
-on a smaul hille a mighty large and stronge
-castel with dyvers towers”; towers that have
-stood here for many generations, defying
-time and war; for this castle of Chirk is no
-ruin like most of its contemporaries, but an
-inhabited house. Yet not these towers, I
-believe, but the old Welsh Castell Crogen,
-stood here when Henry II., with “the chosen
-warriors of England,” and of several other
-countries, marched up this valley to join
-battle with the great Owen Gwynedd and all
-the might of Wales, who were encamped near
-Corwen. The English, finding the trees in
-their way, cut them down as they advanced,
-which so much infuriated some of the Welsh
-who were separated from their main army,
-that the Ceiriog ran red with the blood of
-Henry’s chosen warriors. This Battle of
-Crogen took place just below the older
-castle.</p>
-
-<p>Perhaps the most dramatic event in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span>
-life of the present Chirk Castle was when
-it fell into the hands of the cavaliers, and
-its owner, Sir Thomas Myddleton, a Parliamentary
-leader, was obliged to besiege his
-own house in his own person. I believe that
-on one day of the week the world at large
-is allowed to pass through the beautiful gates
-of wrought iron, and up the long slope of
-the avenue, and into the castle itself, to see
-all the treasures of art and history that
-George Borrow saw when he was here: the
-cabinet of Charles II., and the portraits of
-Nell Gwynne, and of “the very proud
-daughter of the house,” as Borrow calls
-Addison’s wife, “the Warwick Dowager who
-married the Spectator, and led him the life
-of a dog.”</p>
-
-<p>Across Chirk Park runs Offa’s Dyke, the
-long embankment “that was cast up with
-great labour and industry by Offa the
-Mercian, as a boundary between his Subjects
-and the Britains, from the mouth of Dee to
-that of the River Wye.... Concerning which
-Joannes Sarisburiensis in his ‘Polycration’
-saith that Harald establish’d a law that whatever
-Welshman should be found arm’d on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span>
-this side the limit he had set up, then ...
-his right hand should be cut off by the
-King’s Officers.” It touches the high-road
-a few miles beyond Chirk, just before
-we begin the wonderful descent into the
-Vale of Llangollen; that long slope down
-which we swing for several miles on a
-perfect gradient and a perfect surface&mdash;marred,
-however, by an awkward turn&mdash;with
-the whole beautiful valley spread
-out before us, and the Dee sweeping far
-below us, spanned by the remarkable aqueduct
-called Pont-y-Cysylltau. Beyond it rise
-the Eglwyseg crags, and far away the
-shattered fortress of Dinas Bran is visible
-almost from the first on its peak above
-Llangollen. “The castelle of Dinas Brane,”
-says Leland, “was never a bigge thing, but
-sette al for strenght as in a place half inaccessible
-for enemyes.” Even in his day it
-was “al in ruine,” and now there is only
-a fragment left of it to remind us of those
-princes of ancient Powys who built it in days
-so old as to be unchronicled, and defied the
-power of the Saxon from within its walls;
-and of its owner in later days, Madoc ap<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span>
-Gryffyth Maelor, who built the Abbey of
-Valle Crucis; and of the fair Myfanwy, “all
-smiles and light,” who was loved by a poor
-bard of the fourteenth century, and celebrated
-by him in a poem that still exists.</p>
-
-<p>At the foot of the crag on which Dinas
-Bran is perched lies Llangollen&mdash;a little town
-that owes its charm entirely to its position.
-Only a few miles away, in Shropshire, an
-ugly house is an exception: in Wales it is
-unfortunately the rule. A town or village
-that is really pretty in itself, apart from its
-surroundings, is almost unknown. But so
-lovely is the position of Llangollen that in
-spite of its rather squalid streets it is an
-entrancing place; so entrancing that Robert
-Browning lived for some time at the Hand
-Hotel, and the two famous “Ladies of Llangollen,”
-Lady Eleanor Butler and Miss Ponsonby,
-chose it out of all the world for their
-life-long home. Llangollen is still dominated
-by “the Ladies,” almost as much as by Dinas
-Bran itself. They adorn the windows of all
-its photograph shops; they shine in crude
-colours from all its china mugs; and in its
-churchyard we learn from an extremely ugly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span>
-tombstone that one of them, in the opinion
-of the other, had “manners worthy of her
-Illustrious Birth.” It must be admitted that
-such is not the impression given by the impartial.
-It became the fashion for travellers
-of mark to visit this quaint couple in their
-house up there on the hill, and they themselves
-insisted on its being also the fashion
-to give them presents&mdash;carvings, miniatures,
-curiosities of all kinds. If we care to climb
-a steep hill we may see the outside of Plas
-Newydd now, a black-and-white house, which
-must have been really pretty in its original
-simplicity, but is now overladen with a
-mass of carving. From the road we can see
-the porch in which “the Ladies” once stood
-“fussing and tottering about in an agony of
-expectation,” waiting for Sir Walter Scott,
-and looking, says Lockhart, “like a couple
-of hazy or crazy old sailors.” “Who could
-paint,” he goes on, “the prints, the dogs, the
-cats, the miniatures, the cram of cabinets,
-clocks, glass-cases, books, bijouterie, dragon-china,
-nodding mandarins, and whirligigs of
-every shape and hue&mdash;the whole house outside
-and in <i>covered</i> with carved oak ... and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>
-the illustrated copies of Sir W.’s poems, and
-the joking, simpering compliments about
-Waverley.” But whether their manners were
-worthy of their Illustrious Birth or not, they
-were true friends to each other, and the
-guardian angels, as Lockhart admits, of
-Llangollen. It is an interesting fact (which
-should not be forgotten) that the church
-under whose shadow they lie is dedicated to
-St. Collen ap Gwynnawg ap Clydawg ap
-Cowrda ap Caradog Freichfras ap Llyr
-Merimap Eini Yrth ap Cunedda Wledig.</p>
-
-<p>Far more important than Plas Newydd
-or its memories of vanished mandarins and
-whirligigs is the work of that prince of
-Powys, whose name I mentioned in connection
-with Dinas Bran&mdash;Madoc ap Gryffyth
-Maelor. In Pant-y-Groes, or the Valley of
-the Cross, stands Madoc’s ruined abbey, the
-most perfect retreat, surely, that ever brought
-comfort to the sad or sinful. It was of the
-Vale of Llangollen that Ruskin characteristically
-wrote: “The whole valley, when once
-I got up past the Works (whatever the
-accursed business of them) seemed to me
-entirely lovely in its gentle wildness.” And<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span>
-it is this very quality of gentle wildness that
-gives such charm to the little Glen of the
-Cross, which joins the larger valley of the
-Dee just above Llangollen, and is reached
-by way of the old stone bridge that was
-the first of its kind in Wales.</p>
-
-<p>When, in a few minutes, we see the gable
-of Valle Crucis Abbey below us on the right,
-we leave our car by the roadside. We leave,
-indeed, the whole world behind us as we
-pass through the heavy door by which there
-was once no returning. The narrow wooded
-valley hems us in, the trees are close round
-us, the waters of the fishpond, in their
-absolute stillness, add to the sense of aloofness
-and peace. And under our very feet,
-perhaps, is the dust of Iolo Goch, the famous
-bard who sang of “Owain Glyndwr, the
-great, the good”; for Iolo’s unmarked grave
-is here; and here, too, lies Madoc, who built
-this abbey in the last year of the twelfth
-century; and Myfanwy, the beautiful princess,
-“fairer than the cherry’s bloom”; and
-others who died long, long before them.
-To antiquarians the tombs of Valle Crucis
-are full of interest, for there are some that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span>
-seem to prove, says the custodian&mdash;himself
-an antiquarian&mdash;that this Cistercian house
-rose on the site of an older Benedictine
-building. The Cistercians never used warlike
-symbols, but always the sign of the Cross;
-yet here on two stones of very early date&mdash;the
-sixth or seventh century&mdash;are carved
-the sword, the spear, and the battleaxe.
-Fragments of stained glass, too, have been
-unearthed, and coloured tiles, though the
-Cistercian Rule forbade the use of colour
-in any form. This austere Order, however,
-while avoiding the use of the sword as a
-symbol, was apparently not averse to using
-it as a weapon on occasion, for it was by
-fighting the Benedictines in a neighbouring
-field, according to the custodian’s theory,
-that they became possessed of the site of
-their abbey. Truth to tell, the extreme
-austerity of the Cistercians seems to have
-relaxed in later days, for we hear after a
-time of four courses of meat in silver dishes
-at Valle Crucis, and of an abbot with three
-of his fingers covered with rings. But these
-are disturbing thoughts. Let us rather take
-away with us a picture of the quiet fish<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span>pond,
-with its water-weeds and clumps of
-yellow flags, and the gable of the church
-reflected in it line for line, and on the bank
-a hooded figure, dressed in white, with a
-placid face and a busy fishing-rod.</p>
-
-<p>Quite near the abbey in a field is a far
-older relic, Eliseg’s Pillar, the rough stone
-monument that gave its name to the Valley
-of the Cross, though as a matter of fact
-it was probably never a cross. It was once
-much higher than it is now, but in the
-days of the Civil War the name of the
-valley was enough to make it <i>suspect</i>, and
-the pillar was thrown down by the Puritans
-on the chance of its once having been a
-cross. It has been much discussed and disagreed
-about, but at all events its very
-great antiquity is a certainty, and the inscription
-that is now illegible was luckily
-copied several centuries ago. “Concenn,” it
-tells us, “the great grandson of Eliseg,
-erected this stone to the memory of his
-great-grandfather, Eliseg. This is that Eliseg
-who recovered his inheritance of Powis by
-his sword from the power of the Angles.”</p>
-
-<p>Returning to Llangollen we cross the Dee<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span>
-again and go on our way upon the road to
-Holyhead, up the ridge of Rhysgog, past
-Berwyn Station, and so out of the Vale of
-Llangollen into that of Edeyrnion. The Dee
-is still below us on the right, with thickly
-wooded hills beyond it; and on the left are
-rocky heights, sometimes bare and sometimes
-softened by trees. We have a lovely
-run before us down the valley, but if we
-are prudent we will <i>drive slowly in the
-neighbourhood of Corwen</i>.</p>
-
-<p>But here, at the head of the valley, we
-are eight miles away from Corwen, and
-have other things to think of&mdash;great things,
-indeed: the last struggle for Welsh freedom,
-and the man who was the heart and
-the head of it, that strange mixture of
-ruthless vengeance and lovableness, Owen
-Glyndwr, who as a pattern squire, rather
-scholarly and very hospitable, spent many
-quiet years, living sometimes here at Glyndyfrdwy
-beside the Dee and sometimes at
-his other house at Sycharth, and then suddenly,
-at the touch of injustice, unfurled
-the red dragon of Uther and became the
-implacable devastator whose name meets us<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span>
-in every ruin in Wales. Nothing remains
-now of his house, for Prince Hal descended
-upon it one day, and, having left it level
-with the ground, wrote to his “very dear
-and entirely beloved” Wardens of the
-Marches to tell them all about it. After
-describing the burning of Sycharth and of
-many houses round it he goes on: “Then
-we went straight away to his other place
-of Glyndourdy, to seek for him there.
-There we burnt a fine lodge in his park,
-and all the country round; and we remained
-there all that night.” Above the spot where
-the fine lodge stood is a curious tumulus
-crowned with firs, quite close to the road.
-It is known as Owen’s Mount, not because
-he made it, for it is far older than he, but
-because there is a story that he used it as
-a kind of watch-tower. It was at Corwen,
-some say, that he first raised his standard;
-but the other memories of him here are
-legendary and trivial.</p>
-
-<p>From Corwen to wild Cerrig-y-Druidion&mdash;the
-Rock of the Druids&mdash;the road rises
-steadily, and leads to nothing of note but
-the lovely little Pass of Glyndyffws, a deep<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span>
-and narrow defile of sudden unexpected
-beauty that connects two tracts of rather
-dull country. Here, where the Ceirw flings
-itself into the ravine from a great height
-and foams among the rocks far below us,
-Telford has thoughtfully supplied us with
-several little recesses in the wall from which
-to enjoy the view. I have heard that he
-cut his name in the stone of one of them,
-but I have never been able to find it.
-Perhaps it was to his name that George
-Borrow objected when he came here and
-laughed at “Mr. T.” for being eager for
-immortality. There was no need for Telford
-to be over-anxious about his immortality;
-nor yet, indeed, was there any for Borrow
-to flout him because he was not a Welsh
-bard!</p>
-
-<p>Tyn-y-nant, where “little Dick Vickers,”
-late of Shrewsbury Mail, hanged himself
-rather exclusively, is a place of a dreary sort;
-and so is Cerrig-y-Druidion; and so, most
-of all, is the straight road from Cerrig to
-Cernioge, a piece of road that catches all
-the winds of heaven, and always seems
-longer than it was last time. Open the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span>
-throttle here, and be thankful&mdash;if the weather
-be cold&mdash;that your good engine is humming
-before you, and is making a better pace than
-the eleven miles an hour of which the shivering
-travellers on this road used to boast.
-Cernioge is to us merely an unkempt farmhouse,
-but to them it meant a fire and hot
-drinks, for it was once a posting-house of
-considerable renown.</p>
-
-<p>At Cernioge begins the descent into the
-valley of the Conway; and it is here that
-we first see, stretched out before us like
-the Promised Land, the distant grandeur of
-Snowdonia, the wild, impenetrable fortress
-of the Welsh and the trap of the invading
-English. When Pentre Voelas is passed the
-beauty grows and grows, mile by mile, and
-we are gently gliding down into the very
-heart of it; wild crags to the right of us,
-and before and below us a sea of woodland,
-valley beyond valley and hill beyond hill.
-There is one turn of the road where nearly
-every car draws up. The valley of the
-Conway lies at our feet, with here and
-there the river shining through the trees;
-the Lledr Valley stretches away and merges<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>
-into the distant moors; Moel Siabod’s peak
-rises at the end of it; and over Siabod’s
-shoulder appears, on a clear day, a wedge-shaped
-corner of Snowdon, faintly blue. I
-have seen this view at many times of the
-year, and the best time of all is May.</p>
-
-<p>For the woods that are at our feet, the
-woods that gave its name to Bettws-y-Coed,
-the Chapel in the Wood, are at their best in
-May, when every tree has its own individual
-shade of colour, the larch its tender green,
-and the budding oak its pink and gold. But,
-indeed, Bettws is always lovely. Nothing
-can spoil its innate simplicity; not even the
-smart hats and parasols that look so incongruous
-in its little street in July and August.
-It exists only for tourists; there are several
-good hotels, and, roughly speaking, all the
-other houses are lodgings; yet in spite of
-all, Bettws is a village still. Those who like
-to settle down comfortably and motor round
-a centre, instead of touring from place to
-place, will find this much the most central
-and convenient spot from which to explore
-North Wales. And in any case, I think we
-must stay here for a night or two. We<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span>
-must drive to Rhuddlan and Conway and
-Dolwyddelan; we must stand on the Pont-y-Pair
-and watch the tempestuous Llugwy;
-we must inspect David Cox’s famous signboard
-at the Royal Oak; and in the evening,
-when the dusky yews are all in shadow, we
-must sit in the churchyard beside the Conway,
-where the great artist loved to paint.
-The church&mdash;the “Chapel in the Wood”&mdash;is
-uncouth and bare, and not improved by
-modern windows; but it has stood here for
-many centuries, and among its ugly pews
-we realise with a thrill that the tomb at
-our feet holds the dust of a prince of
-Llewelyn’s house.</p>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill18" src="images/ill18.jpg" width="600" height="382" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">THE OLD CHAPEL, BETTWS-Y-COED.</p></div>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill19" src="images/ill19.jpg" width="440" height="600" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">THE LLUGWY AT BETTWS-Y-COED.</p></div>
-
-<p>This is the country of Llewelyn the Great.
-On one side of us is the valley that tradition
-names as his birthplace; on the other the
-valley where he was buried. His grave we
-cannot see, for his burial-place at Aberconwy
-was desecrated when Edward I. built his
-great castle; but on the way from Bettws to
-Rhuddlan we may pause at the church of
-Llanrwst and see there, on the floor of
-Inigo Jones’s chapel of the Wynnes, the
-coffin of stone that once held the bones of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span>
-the greatest of the Welsh princes. There
-are a good many interesting things here&mdash;things
-much older than the church itself;
-but not the least pleasing, I think, is the
-Latin epitaph that the former rector composed,
-with a pretty wit, for his own tomb.
-It has been thus translated:&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<div class="i0">“Once the undeserving schoolmaster,</div>
-<div class="i0">Then the more undeserving lecturer,</div>
-<div class="i0">Last of all the most undeserving rector of this parish.</div>
-<div class="i0">Do not think, speak, or write anything evil of the dead.”</div>
-</div></div></div>
-
-<p>If we are going to Rhuddlan it will not
-be necessary for us to cross the shaking
-bridge, designed&mdash;perhaps&mdash;by Inigo Jones.
-I see no object in a bridge shaking, myself,
-but there are always those at hand
-who for a consideration will shake you the
-bridge if it gives you pleasure. Our way,
-however, lies to the right, up a winding hill
-three miles in length, with an average
-gradient of 1 in 12. It is a serious climb;
-but the backward view of the mountain
-range beyond the Conway is magnificent&mdash;a
-view of rather a rare quality, and not often<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span>
-seen by those who depend upon horses’
-legs or their own. The road that crosses
-the top of the hills runs through scenery
-of rather a commonplace type; then, as we
-drop down into Abergele the Morfa Rhuddlan
-lies before us like a map&mdash;a dull map&mdash;with
-fashionable Rhyl in the distance; and
-from Abergele to Rhuddlan the road is surely
-the straightest and flattest that ever was seen.</p>
-
-<p>The ivy-smothered towers of Rhuddlan
-Castle stand on the banks of the Clwyd.
-That great statesman and soldier, Edward I.,
-being weary of the “Welsh Question,”
-determined to get the affair finished once
-for all; so he rebuilt this castle, settled
-down here with his Court and family, conquered
-the country, made its laws, and saw
-that they were carried out. There is a
-remnant still standing of the house where
-he held his parliament and “secured its independence
-to the Principality of Wales.”
-These words, though not Edward’s, are quite
-in the spirit of his little jokes. It was here
-that he played his historical practical joke
-upon the Welsh nation, when he promised
-them a prince who was a native of Wales<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span>
-and could not speak a word of English&mdash;and
-then showed them the baby. There is
-nothing for us to see inside this castle, for
-Cromwell altogether dismantled it, and its
-heavy green towers, though impressive
-enough as being the grave of Welsh independence,
-are not nearly so typical of the
-“ruthless king” as his great fortresses of
-Carnarvon and Harlech and Conway.</p>
-
-<p>Conway is only seventeen miles away, and
-we may see it on our return journey to Bettws,
-by driving back to Abergele, where there is
-a nice old posting-house, and thence passing
-on above Colwyn Bay. Five hundred years
-ago another traveller came by this way
-from Conway: a poor, duped, heart-sick king
-riding helplessly to imprisonment and mysterious
-death. It was at Conway that
-Bolingbroke’s messenger Northumberland, a
-man of a most treacherous heart, met
-Richard II. with solemn vows of friendship;
-and along this coast that they rode together,
-still smiling, the knave and the fool,
-to Rhuddlan and Flint, where Bolingbroke’s
-army lay waiting on the sands o’ Dee.
-Those splendid walls and towers of Conway<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span>
-that we see beyond the estuary, piled high
-above the water-side, were Richard II.’s last
-refuge. From that day forward every roof
-that sheltered him was a prison.</p>
-
-<p>All through the history of Wales this
-estuary has played an important part.
-Long, long before Edward’s magnificent
-towers rose over the desecrated burial-place
-of the great Llewelyn there was a castle
-guarding the river-mouth at Deganwy. We
-can see its fragments still if we choose to
-drive round that way before crossing to
-Conway; but there is only a remnant left, a
-few stones on a hillside facing the sea&mdash;stones
-that tell of Maelgwyn of the sixth century,
-and of Norman Robert, lord of Rhuddlan,
-who rebuilt Maelgwyn’s fortress and met
-his death there, and of King John of
-England, who was starved out by the
-Welsh. Robert of Rhuddlan’s death was
-picturesque, and, I imagine, well deserved.
-This was the manner of it. He was still
-employed in rebuilding the Welsh castle of
-Deganwy for the harrying of the people to
-whom it really belonged, when one day he
-fell asleep&mdash;a rash thing to do in those days<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span>
-and in that place. Then came Griffith,
-Prince of Gwynedd, with his ships, and
-stole all Robert’s cattle, and was just setting
-sail again when Robert awoke and saw
-what was going forward. Down this steep
-bank below the castle he dashed to the
-shore, and fought desperately, with only one
-follower to support him; but soon died, of
-course, by the spears of the Welsh. Griffith
-nailed his head to the mast and sailed away;
-then, when the Normans chased him, flung
-it into the sea before their eyes.</p>
-
-<p>As for King John, when he in his turn
-tried to strengthen the fortress of Deganwy,
-he was glad enough to escape with his wicked
-head on his shoulders. He had come into
-Wales “minded to destroy all that had life
-within the country”; but he departed, we
-are told, in a great fury, leaving a large
-proportion of his army behind him for
-Llewelyn to bury. For the Welsh had cut
-off all the supplies of the English, “so that
-in time they were glad to take up with horseflesh
-or anything, were it never so mean,
-which might fill up their greedy and empty
-stomachs.” So says Caradoc of Llancarvan.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span>
-Other historians give us a letter written on
-the spot by a certain knight, a man of parts,
-of whose life and letters one would like to
-know more. He describes the royal army
-as “watching, fasting, praying, and freezing.
-We watch,” he continues, “for fear of the
-Welsh.... We fast for want of provisions....
-We pray that we may speedily return
-safe and scot-free home; and we freeze for
-want of winter garments, having but a thin
-linen shirt to keep us from the wind.” This
-vivid letter-writer goes on to tell us of the
-spoiling of Aberconwy Abbey and the burning
-of all the valuable old Welsh records
-there, and he shows a good deal of nice
-feeling in the matter.</p>
-
-<p>It was on the ruins of Aberconwy that
-Edward’s glorious castle rose later on to
-overawe the Welsh. This Castle of Conway
-is the most beautiful of all Henry de Elfreton’s
-works, I think; more beautiful in itself
-even than Harlech; and we can well believe,
-as we drive across the bridge and under the
-great machicolated town gate, that in early
-days it could only be taken by the help of
-guile or famine. Glyndwr’s men won their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span>
-way in by disguising one of their number
-as a carpenter, and to dislodge them Hotspur,
-finding his engines useless, was obliged
-to starve them out. During the Civil War
-the castle was held for the King by the
-Archbishop of York, an extremely “muscular
-Christian,” who on being superseded in
-his command felt the slight so deeply that
-he joined Mytton the Roundhead, and himself
-led the assault! And these great walls,
-fifteen feet in thickness, yielded at last. As
-one climbs the long flight of steps to the
-entrance with all these things in one’s mind
-there is something almost overwhelming in
-the grandeur of these strong towers.</p>
-
-<p>“A very neat castle,” says Camden.</p>
-
-<p>When we have had our luncheon at the
-Castle Hotel we must cross the road to
-Plas Mawr, the town house of the Wynnes
-of Gwydir, who entertained Queen Elizabeth
-there more than once, and even decorated
-her rooms with appropriate symbols, royal
-arms, and monograms. The plaster mouldings
-in this house are its special feature:
-fireplaces, ceilings, walls, all are ornamented
-with them, and in each room the design is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span>
-different. One cannot, however, enjoy the
-mouldings and the oak furniture and the
-priests’ hiding-hole and the lantern window
-with an undivided mind, for the Plas Mawr
-ghost&mdash;unconventional soul!&mdash;walks by daylight.</p>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill20" src="images/ill20.jpg" width="600" height="380" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">CONWAY CASTLE.</p></div>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill21" src="images/ill21.jpg" width="600" height="382" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">THE PASS OF NANT FFRANCON.</p></div>
-
-<p>We leave Conway by the road that
-follows the western bank of the river, for
-by so doing we secure an impressive backward
-view of the old town walls, which
-is ample compensation for the steep ascent
-that soon carries us out of sight. Moreover
-this road, after a few more hills and
-a few more miles of level going, with a
-view up the valley that grows lovelier
-every moment, will lead us to Trefriew, a
-dear little watering-place with a good
-hotel. The tiny church here has no outward
-attractions; it has not even any
-appearance of age. Yet it has its own
-romance; for it is said that when the
-English wife of Llewelyn the Great&mdash;Joan,
-the daughter of King John&mdash;found the
-severe climb to the old church of Llanrhychwyn
-too much for her, her thoughtful
-husband built this one for her at the foot<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span>
-of the hill. Those who do not share her
-feelings may still see, on the heights
-above the village, the yet older church
-where Llewelyn worshipped before his
-wife objected to the walk. And beyond it
-again, on the wild hill-top, is Llyn
-Geirionydd, on whose shores lived Taliesin,
-the Bard of the Radiant Brow, the most
-famous of all the Welsh bards.</p>
-
-<p>Between Trefriew and Bettws there are
-but a few miles of level road and very
-lovely scenery. Gwydir Castle, the old
-house of the Wynnes, stands between us
-and the river, and may be seen when
-Lord Carrington is away. It is full, I
-believe, of carvings and tapestry and relics
-of history. Queen Elizabeth stayed here,
-and Leicester, and Charles I.</p>
-
-<p>But here among these wild Welsh hills
-Elizabeth’s starched ruff and Charles’s
-curls strike one as a little out of place.
-We may find memories of Elizabeth&mdash;who
-seems to have slept in as many different
-places as a motorist&mdash;in half the towns
-and big houses of England. This is the
-country of the Kings of Gwynedd.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>We saw the Lledr Valley stretched out
-before us as we came down the hill from
-Pentre Voelas to Bettws. But that bird’s-eye
-view of it gives one no idea at all of
-its extreme beauty; of the towering height
-of its steep slopes, now bare and rocky,
-now richly wooded: of its brilliant colouring
-and deep purple shadows. At the head
-of it, where its beauty is partly spoiled
-by quarries and all their works, is Dolwyddelan
-village; and beyond that again,
-standing alone among the desolate hills,
-is the stern tower where Llewelyn the
-Great, the “eagle of men,” is believed to
-have been born. It is only a square
-tower now, and though it once had two
-towers it was never a place of any size;
-for Dolwyddelan and Dolbadarn, the two
-mountain strongholds of the princes of
-Gwynedd, did not rely upon their own
-strength, but on the great bewildering
-hills that defended them on every side.
-Thus it was that this small fortress was
-the last to yield to Edward I. And while
-remembering Llewelyn here do not let us
-forget to dedicate one sigh to his poor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span>
-father, Iorwerth Drwyndwn&mdash;of the broken
-nose&mdash;who, when that unfortunate feature
-kept him from his princedom, was given
-this country and its tower by way of
-compensation.</p>
-
-<p>It is the custom to return to Bettws
-from this point, for reasons that a glance
-at the Contour Book may perhaps explain.
-But the fashion has been set, I
-think, by bicyclists, whom one really cannot
-blame for shirking the hill that rises between
-Dolwyddelan and Maentwrog. Here let me
-assure motorists that there is little reason
-why they should miss the wild beauty of
-the moors above this point; the rolling
-expanse of brown and purple bogland, the
-endless succession of hills, the grand outline
-of Moel Siabod. For though the road is
-certainly steep the surface is excellent, except
-for a mile or so above Blaenau Festiniog,
-that strange town on the mountain ledge
-that entirely owes its existence to the
-neighbouring quarries, and yet is more
-than a mile long and has three railway
-stations. There is no need to brave the
-hill again to return to Bettws, for the road<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span>
-by Maentwrog, Penrhyndeudraeth, and the
-Pass of Aberglaslyn is one of the loveliest
-in Wales, and though we shall come down
-the Pass by and by there is no hardship in
-going over the ground twice. It is worth
-remembering, too, that at Maentwrog it is
-possible, if time allows, to cross the valley
-and approach the famous toy railway-line
-at its prettiest point, Tan-y-Bwlch, where a
-lake lies hidden among the woods, and
-where we may have tea on the grass close
-beside the water, facing a scene of rich
-colouring and deep, cool shadows.</p>
-
-<p>All this, however, is a digression. It is
-highly probable that the great majority
-of motorists will look at the Contour Book
-and return to Bettws from Dolwyddelan.
-They will have the advantage of seeing
-the Lledr Valley from a new point of view.</p>
-
-<p>Now in the Snowdon country there are
-three great passes through the mountains
-to the sea: the Passes of Nant Ffrancon,
-Llanberis, and Nant Gwynant combined
-with Aberglaslyn. It is hard to say which
-is the most beautiful of the three; and it
-is quite imperative, and also quite easy, to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span>
-see them all by pursuing rather a zigzag
-course. Nant Ffrancon is the route of the
-Holyhead Road and the nearest to Bettws:
-so we will go down by Nant Ffrancon, and
-come up again by Llanberis on the same
-day; and on the next start off again by
-way of Nant Gwynant and Aberglaslyn,
-passing through Bedd Gelert.</p>
-
-<p>The road climbs out of Bettws through a
-thick wood beside the rushing Llugwy, and
-soon draws near the Swallow Falls.<a name="FNanchor_7" id="FNanchor_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> This
-triple fall is only a stone’s-throw from the
-road, and it is worth while to follow the
-slippery path across the pine-needles, and
-stand for a moment in the pricking spray
-watching the commotion. In the thick of
-the hubbub they say the spirit of Sir John
-Wynne, which left this mortal coil early
-in the seventeenth century, is being
-“purged, punished, and spouted upon”;
-though I have never heard anything
-definite against him except that he was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span>
-“shrewd and successful.” He was a member
-of that Court of the Marches of which
-we heard so much at Ludlow, and he left
-a very valuable record of his family behind
-him.</p>
-
-<p>This bit of country between Bettws
-and Capel Curig is one of the gems of
-North Wales. Moel Siabod towers above
-us; and beyond it soon appears that cloud-capped
-peak whose name quickens every
-Welsh heart&mdash;the rallying-point of heroes,
-the symbol and stronghold of the liberties
-of Wales. The finest view of Snowdon is
-from Capel Curig, where the double peak
-is reflected in the double lake.</p>
-
-<p>Our road, still climbing, turns to the
-right in Capel Curig and takes us up into
-the heart of the hills, through a scene of
-splendid desolation&mdash;bare heights, huge
-boulders tossed and heaped upon the
-ground, jagged outlines, and dark sullen
-colours&mdash;a land that was vastly disconcerting
-to those travellers of an earlier day
-whose idea of beauty was “a smiling
-landscape.” As we reach the summit and
-see the waters of Llyn Ogwen below us,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span>
-sapphire-blue or lead-grey according to
-circumstances, the great sides of Tryfaen
-and the Glydyrs tower on the left. Beyond
-the lake Alla Wen rises steeply. “A horrid
-spot of hills,” says a seventeenth-century
-writer. “The most dreadful horse-path in
-Wales,” says Pennant; and that indeed it
-may well have been before Telford came
-here to perform his miracles of engineering.
-“The district through which the
-surveys were carried is mountainous,” he
-says quietly; “and I found the existing
-roads very imperfect.” When we have
-passed Llyn Ogwen, and the cottage where
-food is to be had if necessary, and the
-sudden turning over the bridge, and are
-swinging down the gentle slope of Nant
-Ffrancon high up on the mountain-side,
-we must surely give nearly as much
-admiration to this road which descends for
-ten miles with no steeper gradient than
-1 in 15 as we give to the wide Valley of
-the Beavers below us. Above us the
-mountain is a mass of grey boulders, of
-scars and landslips; below us it sweeps
-down precipitously to where the little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span>
-Ogwen dances like a streak of quicksilver.
-Presently we pass under the hideous
-excrescence of the Penrhyn slate quarries,
-grey terraces of rubbish contrasting cruelly
-with the glowing gorse of the opposite
-slopes; and then through the equally
-hideous town of slate, Bethesda, the miners’
-town, whose slate walls, slate steps, and
-slate porches are enough, as Dr. Johnson,
-would say, “to make a man hang himself.”
-Let us hurry on into the Cochwillan
-Woods.</p>
-
-<p>Very soon after passing the modern towers
-of Penrhyn Castle we reach the town of
-Bangor, “which for the beauty of its
-situation, was called Ban-cor, the high
-or conspicuous choir.” It is not a very inviting
-place, nevertheless, and there is no
-need to pause here, for even the cathedral
-is not beautiful. It has had a great deal to
-bear; for it was burnt by Harold the Saxon,
-and again by King John, and again by
-Owen Glyndwr; and no doubt the castle
-built by Hugh, Earl of Chester, suffered on
-one or all of these occasions, for Camden
-says, “though he made diligent inquiry he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span>
-could not discover the least footsteps” of
-it. The original cathedral was founded by
-St. Deiniol in the sixth century, and beneath
-it is buried the great Welsh prince Owen
-Gwynedd, hero of many battles, who fought
-here on the heights above the straits a fight
-so desperate that “the Menai could not
-ebb on account of the torrent of blood
-which flowed into it.” Before we go on to
-Carnarvon we must cross those straits, for
-the sake of the bridge, and of the view,
-and of Beaumaris.</p>
-
-<p>It was in the year 1826 that the mail-coach,
-swaying under its burden of excited
-officials, rolled slowly for the first time
-over the Menai Bridge. It was a brave
-scene. Telford, in his modest way, had
-pleaded against a formal procession, but he
-could not check personal enthusiasm nor
-prevent the mustering of that long, long
-line of carriages and horsemen and thousands
-on foot, which followed the Royal London
-and Holyhead Mail, amid the fluttering of
-flags and the firing of guns, and the roaring
-of a gale. Nor yet could he control the
-shouts that rose above the wind when he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>
-himself passed by in an inconspicuous
-carriage.</p>
-
-<p>As soon as we reach the sacred shore of
-Mona, the last home of the Druids, we turn
-sharply to the right; unless, indeed, we have
-a mind to pursue the Holyhead road for a
-couple of miles, for the pleasure of telling our
-friends that we have seen Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerchwryndrobwllantysiliogogogoch.
-I
-once heard a rumour that this place was
-to be connected by rail with Pontrhydfendigaedmynachlogfawr,
-but as the scheme may
-come to nothing perhaps it would be wiser not
-to mention it.</p>
-
-<p>From the shore road to Beaumaris we see
-the whole grand panorama of the Gwynedd
-mountains, height beyond height and range
-beyond range, from the pale distant peak of
-Snowdon to the dark shadows of steep Penmaenmawr.
-It is a scene that has a quality
-of strangeness in it. One looks at it from
-the outside, as it were; for Anglesey, which
-once was green with the sacred groves of
-the Druids, is now, as it was in the days
-of Giraldus Cambrensis, “an arid and stony
-land, rough and unpleasant in its appear<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>ance.”
-One feels, on this flat shore, worlds
-away from that beautiful country beyond
-the strait. On a day of sunshine and cloud,
-when the mountains are glowing with every
-imaginable colour and seem every moment
-to be changing their shapes under the
-moving shadows, it is worth driving many
-a mile to sit on the beach of Beaumaris.</p>
-
-<p>Behind us, close at hand, is Beaumaris
-Castle; opposite to us, across the water, is
-“Aber of the white shells,” where Llewelyn
-the Great held his Court, and where his
-English wife died; and a little further along
-the Anglesey shore to our left is Llanfaes,
-where he buried her “with dire lamentation
-and no little honour,” and built over her grave
-a monastery that was altogether destroyed
-by Henry IV. Poor Joan’s coffin must have
-been through many changes before the sad
-day when it occurred to some thrifty farmer
-that the queer old stone trough would do
-finely for his cattle to drink out of. It was
-fortunately discovered early in the last century,
-and another watering-trough having
-been found for the cows, it was placed in
-safety in the garden at Baron Hill.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Beaumaris Castle does not make so brave
-a show as most of Edward’s fortresses; but
-its ten low towers and its double line of
-defence were no doubt formidable enough
-before their thick drapery of ivy gave them
-so soft an air. The rusty iron rings that
-hang on the outer wall give one of those
-little touches of the commonplace that bring
-the past so near. Edward I. cut a canal
-and filled the moat of Beaumaris Castle
-from the sea, and so the ships that brought
-supplies to the garrison were moored and
-unladed at the very walls.</p>
-
-<p>The shores of the Menai have seen a vast
-amount of fighting of a very desperate kind,
-from the days when the Druids stood at bay
-here to the time when Edward I. bridged
-the strait with boats and was badly beaten
-by the last Llewelyn. And as we re-cross
-the bridge and look down at the ancient
-little church of Llandysilio so far below us,
-we may remember another scene&mdash;peaceful
-in itself but not unconnected with bloodshed&mdash;when
-on a hill near here, Archbishop
-Baldwin and that delightful chronicler
-Giraldus induced many persons, by persuasive
-discourses, to “take the cross.”</p>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill22" src="images/ill22.jpg" width="600" height="378" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">THE MENAI BRIDGE, FROM ANGLESEY.</p></div>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill23" src="images/ill23.jpg" width="600" height="385" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">CARNARVON CASTLE.</p></div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span>From the other side of the Menai, on the
-Carnarvon road, the view is, of course, comparatively
-tame; but we have only eight
-miles to travel before reaching Carnarvon,
-and on a level road they are soon disposed
-of.</p>
-
-<p>It is difficult to realise at the first
-moment that the well-preserved, clean walls
-upon which one comes so suddenly in
-the middle of Carnarvon were raised by
-Edward I.; though that king himself stands
-above the gateway, with his hand on the
-sword that worked so hard. This is the
-greatest of his castles; he chose it for
-the birthplace of his son, and chose it too,
-apparently, to be the monument and symbol
-of himself. Nothing could be a more fitting
-emblem of the unyielding strength of the
-king who built castles in Wales almost as
-profusely as other men build them in Spain.
-On this, the town side of it, one is more
-struck with its strength than with its
-beauty. To see it at its best one must
-cross the bridge, and from the other side
-of the river-mouth look at the huge bulk
-of it; the long line of the curtain-wall<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span>
-reflected in the water; the great octagonal
-towers, with their clusters of slender turrets;
-the unutterable repellent air of it. There
-are no windows in these cold walls; no ivy
-or very little, to soften their austerity.
-Even from this side, though the water and
-the shipping give it picturesque surroundings,
-I think Carnarvon Castle is not beautiful
-so much as impressive. When Queen
-Eleanor entered it through the gate still
-called the Queen’s she did not see it as it
-stands now, for it was finished by her son,
-who was born in the castle soon after her
-arrival. A little room in the Eagle Tower
-is shown as his birthplace; but those who
-have read the local records declare it to be
-proved beyond doubt that the tower was
-without a roof till the baby in question,
-Edward II., put a roof on it himself.</p>
-
-<p>It is surprisingly well preserved. This, no
-doubt, is partly because it has never been
-overcome by any more destructive agent than
-the starvation of its garrison. Glyndwr
-besieged it on its landward side, and his
-French allies attacked it from the sea; but
-they made little impression upon it, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span>
-finally, since time was precious, they thought
-it wiser to employ their engines elsewhere
-more profitably, though the garrison within
-numbered only twenty-eight men, in sore
-want of provisions.</p>
-
-<p>Between Carnarvon and the Pass of
-Llanberis lie ten miles of undulating
-country. But the mountains are towering
-before us like an impassable wall, growing
-ever higher and more formidable as we pass
-Llyn Padarn and Llanberis town, whence
-the mountain-railway starts for the summit
-of Snowdon. No doubt the northern shores
-of Llyn Padarn and of Llyn Peris, which
-lies beyond it, were once beautiful; but
-they are now merely a mass of unsightly
-débris, mountains of broken slate, terrace
-above terrace of melancholy grey. The
-southern shore of Llyn Peris, however, at
-the very foot of the Pass, has kept its
-own wild beauty, and on a craggy little
-hill that rises at the lower end “there is
-yet a pece of a toure,” as Leland says.
-A very notable piece of a tower it is too;
-for Dolbadarn was the very centre and
-heart and ultimate citadel of Welsh free<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span>dom
-from the earliest days. Here Llewelyn,
-the third and last, kept his brother a
-prisoner for twenty-three years, and here
-Owen Glyndwr hid himself whenever it
-suited him to elude the English, who invariably
-lost their way among these mountains.
-It was here, too, that Owen hid his
-chief enemy, Lord Grey of Ruthin, who
-had embroiled him with the King of
-England and caused all the trouble. But
-this little square grey “pece of a toure”
-is far older, they say, than Owen or
-Llewelyn. It is supposed to have been
-built by Maelgwyn, the same prince
-who built that first castle at Deganwy
-which was rebuilt by Robert of Rhuddlan
-and King John at such large cost to themselves.
-Maelgwyn, King of Gwynedd in the
-sixth century, is one of the forceful
-characters who stand out here and there
-conspicuously in the rather bewildering host
-of Cymric princes; a personable man, according
-to all accounts, and one of great courage
-and success in battle, yet not without leanings
-towards the monastic life. He actually
-became a monk for a time; but no one can<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span>
-have been greatly surprised when he tired
-of the constraint and took to soldiering
-again. On the whole I fear he was a
-truculent creature, for Taliesin, “chief of
-the bards of the West,” proclaimed, with
-the ambiguity common to prophets, that&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<div class="i0">“A most strange creature should come from the sea-marsh of Rhianedd</div>
-<div class="i0">As a punishment of iniquity on Maelgwn Gywnedd,</div>
-<div class="i0">His hair, his teeth, and his eyes being as gold.”</div>
-</div></div></div>
-
-<p>And Maelgwyn died of the yellow plague.</p>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill24" src="images/ill24.jpg" width="600" height="381" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">DOLBADARN CASTLE.</p></div>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill25" src="images/ill25.jpg" width="600" height="379" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">SNOWDON, FROM CAPEL CURIG.</p></div>
-
-<p>It is only a little way beyond this point
-that the actual Pass of Llanberis begins to
-rise, cleaving its straight course between the
-mountains to the very foot of Snowdon&mdash;“to
-the Welsh always the hill of hills,” as
-Borrow says. The highest peak, Y Wyddfa,
-is not visible from the Pass, but one
-sharp-edged shoulder in certain lights
-seems to be within a stone’s-throw of the
-road. This is the steepest of the three
-passes near Snowdon, and the one whose
-name is best known to the world in
-general. As for beauty&mdash;the most beautiful
-of the three is the one on whose royal<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span>
-blues and imperial purples one’s eyes are
-actually feasting at the moment. But I
-would say this: to understand even the
-elements of the beauty of these hills it is
-imperative to travel <i>up</i> each of the three
-passes, for as one climbs up into the heart
-of the mountains the effect is in every
-case more beautiful than on the downward
-journey. On a continuous tour this is of
-course impossible; and that is one reason
-why the best way of seeing Snowdonia is
-to stay for a few days at a centre, such as
-Bettws, or Capel Curig, or Pen-y-Gwryd.</p>
-
-<p>At one or other of the two latter places
-it will probably be necessary to spend a
-night after this run from Bettws to Bangor
-and Carnarvon. Capel Curig has the finer
-view, and a hotel that has overlooked Llyn
-Mymbyr and faced the peaks of Snowdon
-for many a year. I do not know if it is
-the same that Sir Walter Scott stayed in
-and Lockhart described as “a pretty little
-inn in a most picturesque situation
-certainly, and as to the matter of toasted
-cheese, quite exquisite”; but it is without
-doubt the same that seemed to George<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span>
-Borrow “a very magnificent edifice.” He
-dined here, he tells us, “in a grand
-saloon amidst a great deal of fashionable
-company,” who “surveyed him with looks
-of the most supercilious disdain.” I strongly
-suspect that both the fashion and the disdain
-existed only in a sensitive imagination.</p>
-
-<p>Pen-y-Gwryd is exactly at the junction
-of the Pass of Llanberis with Nant
-Gwynant, the valley down which our
-future course lies; and here too there is a
-comfortable inn, with memories of Charles
-Kingsley and the author of “Tom Brown’s
-Schooldays.” From this point we can start
-off in the morning without retracing a step.</p>
-
-<p>As one glides down the perfect gradient
-of this entrancing valley of the Glaslyn,
-with the very blue waters of Llyn Gwynant
-glittering below and the sides of Snowdon
-rising precipitously from the shore on the
-right, and on the left the wild green slopes
-climbing up and up from the roadside to
-the sky, one comes after all to a decision
-as to the comparative beauty of these
-passes. Nant Gwynant is the best. The
-hill is three miles and a half long, and in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span>
-some places just steep enough to force us
-to slacken speed and so make the most of
-our surroundings; then a few miles of
-undulating road lead past Llyn Dinas and,
-still by the side of the stony Glaslyn, into
-the village of Bedd Gelert, which has won
-fame on false grounds as the burial-place
-of Llewelyn’s hound. The rough, pathetic
-tomb, that stands in a meadow and is
-reached by a path made by the feet
-of thousands of pilgrims, has a most
-plausible appearance; but it was, I believe,
-raised by the forethought of a hotel-keeper&mdash;a
-man who apparently knew his
-world. No bones of a faithful dog lie
-here; but if we may not weep over the
-dust of Gelert we may at all events mourn
-the loss of a beautiful, but dead, legend.
-We drive through the village and enter,
-almost at once, the Pass of Aberglaslyn.
-The steep part of the road is quite short;
-but this strange cleft in the rock, this
-narrow ravine that holds only the river
-and the road between its cliffs, forms an
-imposing southern gate to the Snowdon
-mountains. We pass out of it almost<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span>
-suddenly into the wide, level meadowland
-of the Traeth Mawr&mdash;and may the gorse be
-in its full glory at the time!</p>
-
-<p>This plain that we are swinging across
-so happily, this plain of green and gold,
-was a barren marsh, useless to man or
-beast, till it was reclaimed in the early
-part of last century by a certain Mr.
-Maddox, who gave his name to the two
-towns that own their existence to him&mdash;Portmadoc
-and Tremadoc. At Tremadoc
-lived Percy and Harriet Shelley for a little
-time, while they were still happy. The
-poet, with characteristic enthusiasm, was
-fascinated by the great draining-scheme;
-and in his leisure moments grounded poor
-Harriet in Latin.</p>
-
-<p>It is here or at Portmadoc that we turn
-to the right, if we are minded, to explore
-the little-known peninsula of Lleyn. For
-some mysterious reason the greater part of
-this promontory is seldom visited, though it
-is not by any means without attractions.
-It cannot, of course, compare in any respect
-with the dramatic grandeur of the Snowdon
-country; there are large tracts that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span>
-might even be called uninteresting; but
-from the southern uplands the panorama
-of the mountains of Gwynedd is really
-magnificent, and on the northern coast the
-fine outline of Yr Eifl&mdash;ridiculously corrupted
-into the Rivals&mdash;rises very grandly from
-the sea. And when the gorse is in blossom
-the whole country is veined with gold, for
-here they make their hedges of gorse, and
-the air is heavy with its poignant
-sweetness.</p>
-
-<p>As for the roads, they are mostly good.
-The roads from Pwllheli to Nevin, to Yr
-Eifl and Clynnogfawr, and to Aberdaron
-are all excellent; so also is the one that
-connects Nevin with Aberdaron; but the
-“Saints’ Road to Bardsey” from Nevin to
-Llanaellraiarn should be avoided, since the
-saints, apparently, employed indifferent
-engineers.</p>
-
-<p>To reach Pwllheli from Portmadoc we
-must past through Criccieth, one of the
-most popular places on this coast, and one
-that must have been really beautiful before
-its popularity spoilt it. It has a nice hotel,
-and is, in any case, a far more attractive<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span>
-stopping-place than the ambitious Pwllheli.
-The castle, not without dignity, stands aloof
-upon its abrupt round promontory, facing
-the rows of modern lodging-house as though
-they were some new kind of enemy drawn
-up against it. For that Edwardian gateway
-has faced many enemies, and the castle still
-more. Of its original founding I believe
-nothing is certainly known, but it is older
-than its gateway, for Llewelyn the Great
-chose it for the prison of his unruly son,
-Gryffydd, of whom it was said that
-“peace was not to be looked for in his
-neighbourhood.” But, indeed, in those times
-a strong prison seems to have been the
-only way of securing peace in any one’s
-neighbourhood.</p>
-
-<p>Much the most picturesque person who
-has ever been connected with Criccieth
-was Sir Howel y Fwyall, or <i>of the Axe</i>.
-So doughty were his deeds at Poictiers
-that the Black Prince not only did him
-honour in the usual ways, with money and
-knighthood, but gave orders that the pole-axe
-with which he had done so valiantly
-should be set up in this castle of Criccieth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span>&mdash;of
-which Howel was Constable&mdash;and
-should be served with a mess of meat
-daily. Eight yeoman were entrusted with
-this service, and after the ceremony the
-meat was given to the poor. The custom
-was kept up till the reign of Elizabeth.</p>
-
-<p>The name of Pwllheli is well known, if ill-pronounced,
-in the world of tourists. It
-aspires to be a fashionable watering-place,
-and one feels that success may possibly
-crown its endeavours, when one considers
-the natural disadvantages of Rhyl and Borth
-and many another prosperous spot.</p>
-
-<p>A few years ago we should have been
-obliged, having once passed Criccieth, to
-spend the night at Pwllheli; but now we
-shall do well if we rather choose Nevin for
-our stopping-place. A nice new hotel has
-been built there&mdash;a hotel with no foolish
-pretensions, but evidently with every intention
-of gradually becoming a thoroughly
-comfortable abiding-place for golfers who
-like quietness. The little town lies close
-under the shelter of the hills, and between
-it and the sea is the flat land of the Morfa
-Nevin, where Edward I. gathered all the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span>
-chivalry of England and many a foreign
-noble to celebrate his conquest of Wales in
-a great tournament.</p>
-
-<p>Nevin is threatened with the railway,
-which, if it actually approaches the place,
-will certainly spoil it; but it will be long,
-I imagine, before any intrusion of that kind
-disturbs the peace or injures the beauty of
-little Aberdaron. It is an elect spot, this
-End of the World in Wales; more remote,
-less visited than St. David’s, and infinitely
-less famous; yet once trodden, like St.
-David’s, by the weary feet of countless
-pilgrims. For just beyond that low headland
-on our right is sacred Bardsey, the
-Island of the Saints, where lies the dust
-of twenty thousand holy men. St.
-Mary’s Abbey, of which some fragments
-still are left, was founded in such early
-days that Dubritius, who crowned King
-Arthur and then resigned the See of
-Caerleon to St. David, came to end his
-day in this remote monastery; and so holy
-was the soil at last that every monk in
-Wales crossed this dangerous channel to
-kneel upon it. It was here, from these<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span>
-wide, white sands of Aberdaron, that they
-embarked, half trembling, half inspired&mdash;white-robed
-Cistercians and sombre Benedictines&mdash;and
-here, in this little church
-between the hills and the sea, that they
-spent the night on their knees before braving
-dangers that were not by any means
-imaginary. The building has been re-roofed
-and much restored, but these are the very
-walls within which the pilgrims prayed, the
-very walls that once gave sanctuary to any
-man, innocent or guilty, who sought their
-shelter. The blind wall on the north bears
-witness to the early British origin of the
-church.</p>
-
-<p>And we must not forget, as we stand
-thinking of the pilgrim monks on the
-shore, that this sheltered, isolated corner,
-hidden closely by the hills on the one side
-and protected by the long headlands on the
-other, was once visited by secular history.
-Into this bay sailed Hotspur’s father, the
-base Northumberland, from France, and
-from Harlech came Owen Glyndwr and
-Edmund Mortimer; and here in the house
-of the lord of Aberdaron they swore to be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span>
-thenceforward “bound by the bond of a
-true league and true friendship and sure and
-good union,” and to act in all ways as
-became “good true and faithful friends to
-good true and faithful friends.”</p>
-
-<p>The fascinations of the Bay of Aberdaron,
-however, must not blind us to the fact that
-the finest scenery in the Peninsula, of Lleyn,
-is in the north. From Pwllheli we should
-drive across to Llanaellraiarn under the
-great brow of Yr Eifl, and then, turning
-to the right, follow the road between the
-wild, craggy hills and the sea to Clynnogfawr.
-Here lived and died the great St. Beuno,
-and the church that bears his name is of
-a size and importance quite unusual in so
-tiny a place: “almost as bigge as St.
-Davides,” says Leland. This large church
-only dates from the fifteenth century, but
-the little chapel where St. Beuno is buried
-is connected with it by a covered way, and
-was founded by the saint himself in the
-seventh century. His tomb was still to be
-seen in Pennant’s day, and had the gift of
-working miracles, but now both monument
-and miracles are no more. In the larger<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span>
-church is carefully preserved a strange old
-chest that is said to have belonged to St.
-Beuno.</p>
-
-<p>To reach the Traeth Mawr from Clynnog
-our best way is to go on to Pont-y-Croes,
-then strike across to Pen-y-Groes, and
-thence descend to Tremadoc. There is not
-much to be said in favour of this road’s
-surface, but the beauty of it increases every
-moment, and for the last few miles, as we drop
-gently down on to that plain of gorse that
-lies like a sheet of flame between two ranges
-of purple mountains, we have as fine a sight
-above, below, and before us as any we shall
-find in Wales. A few minutes later we are
-in Portmadoc, and from the long embankment
-there look up the valley of the
-Glaslyn across the Traeth Mawr to that
-gate of Gwynedd through which we came
-a little while ago.</p>
-
-<p>Presently we cross the estuary of the
-river Dwryd by a toll-bridge. I think this
-river-bank must be the scene of a touching
-incident described by Giraldus. He and his
-Archbishop, recruiting for the Crusades, were
-met “at the passage of a bridge” between<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>
-the Traeth Mawr and Llanbedr near Harlech
-by Meredyth ap Conan, a prince of this
-country. He brought with him a large
-suite, and then and there by the river-side
-the Archbishop preached to them, and “many
-persons were signed with the Cross.” Among
-these ardent souls was a personal friend of
-the young prince. Meredyth, seated higher
-on the bank than his suite, looked on
-while the symbolic cross was sewn upon
-the cloaks of the new crusaders, till it came
-to the turn of his own friend. Then Meredyth,
-says Giraldus, “observing that the
-cloak on which the cross was to be sewn
-was of too thin and too common a texture,
-with a flood of tears threw him down his
-own.”</p>
-
-<p>From the banks of the Dwryd a very level
-road soon brings us within sight of Harlech.
-It is a very distant glimpse of it that we
-have first; an irregular outline, a grey mass
-of towers standing out against the sky,
-raised grandly upon a rock above a plain
-that is nearly as flat as the sea beyond it.
-Then trees hide it, and we climb through
-the woods to the level of the great gate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span>
-before which so many armies have stood
-before us&mdash;armies of Owen and of Henry, of
-Edward IV., and of Oliver.</p>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill26" src="images/ill26.jpg" width="600" height="382" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">NEAR BEDD GELERT.</p></div>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill27" src="images/ill27.jpg" width="600" height="390" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">GATEWAY OF HARLECH CASTLE.</p></div>
-
-<p>Long, long before Henry de Elfreton, king
-of architects, built this grand fortress at
-Edward’s command, a royal castle stood upon
-this rock. So, at least, says one of the
-“Mabinogion,” and here, under the spell of
-the land that created those old romances,
-I would fain believe that Branwen, the
-daughter of Llyr, lived at Harlech with her
-royal brother Bendigeid Vran, and that
-Matholwch, King of Ireland, came across
-the sea to woo her, with thirteen ships
-flying beautiful flags of satin. At the
-wedding, unfortunately, there was trouble
-between the two kings; but after a certain
-amount of friction the banquet was “carried
-on with joyousness,” and the happy pair
-journeyed towards Ireland with their thirteen
-ships. In Ireland Branwen “passed her time
-pleasantly, enjoying honour and friendship,”
-which she owed to the fact&mdash;we are given to
-understand&mdash;that she presented each of her
-visitors with a clasp, or a ring, or a royal
-jewel, “such as it was honourable to be seen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span>
-departing with.”<a name="FNanchor_8" id="FNanchor_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> By and by mischief was
-made between Matholwch and his wife, and
-she was sent to the kitchen to cook for the
-Court, which seems a drastic way of treating
-a Queen Consort. Then came Bendigeid Vran,
-her brother, to avenge her, with the hosts
-of seven score countries and four, and there
-was war between the two islands because
-of her. And only seven men of the Welsh
-escaped, and in Ireland none were left alive
-except five women. And Branwen went with
-the seven men of Wales to Mona, and she
-“looked towards Ireland and towards the
-Island of the Mighty, to see if she could
-descry them. ‘Alas!’ said she, ‘woe is me
-that I was ever born; two islands have been
-destroyed because of me!’ Then she uttered
-a loud groan and there broke her heart.
-And they made her a four-sided grave, and
-buried her upon the banks of the Alaw.” And
-her name still lives upon this rock of Harlech
-in Branwen’s Tower.</p>
-
-<p>Bendigeid Vran, the son of Llyr, was not
-the last Welsh prince who held his Court<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span>
-here within sight of Snowdon. For Glyndwr
-made his way in between those great towers
-after a long siege, during which Henry’s
-garrison, who were at last reduced to sixteen,
-locked up their governor because they did
-not trust his constancy. Glyndwr brought
-his family here, and held a parliament, and
-gathered a little Court round him; but after
-another long siege he lost more than the
-castle, for his son-in-law Mortimer was
-killed, and his wife and grandchildren were
-taken prisoners to London. But it was that
-later siege by Edward IV.’s army that was
-the most fierce of all. It was then that the
-March of the Men of Harlech first stirred
-the sea-breeze and the hearts of men; and
-it was then that the blood of six thousand
-men flowed here where we are standing
-before the gates. Still later on Harlech held
-very obstinately for Charles I.</p>
-
-<p>At Harlech we look our last on Snowdon,
-for the road, high above the sea, soon turns
-a corner, then dips to the shore at Llanbedr.
-At this pretty village those who are prepared
-to face a road that finally becomes little more
-than a track, and are, moreover, tolerably<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span>
-good walkers, may leave the high-road and
-drive up into a very wild and beautiful bit
-of country to Cwm Bychan. I freely admit
-that the enterprise is more suitable for
-bicycles than for motors, and I further
-confess that I have never undertaken it in
-a car myself; but I should be extremely
-happy to make the attempt on the first fine
-day. For Llyn Cwm Bychan is a lovely
-lake lying among moors and steep, rocky
-hills; it has the wildness of a loch in
-Galloway. And the only way out of this
-hollow in the hills, except the track by
-which we enter it, is a mighty staircase of
-stone slabs set regularly in the hillside&mdash;a
-staircase a mile in length, which has withstood
-time and weather since the feet of the
-Romans passed this way.</p>
-
-<p>Even the best-advertised car could hardly
-climb the Roman Steps; so we must rejoin
-the coast road at Llanbedr and go on our
-way to Barmouth. There was once a time
-very long ago, it is said, when all the bay
-that lies upon our right was a fertile plain,
-the Plain of Gwaelod, with cities and
-fortresses thick upon the ground, and a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>
-great and busy population, and a king
-called Gwyddno Longshanks. And because
-the land lay so low and the sea so close at
-hand a mighty embankment of stone was
-built along the shore, and all went well for
-many a year. But there came a time when
-the chief overseer of this great dyke was
-Seithenyn ap Seithyn Saidi, and he, unfortunately,
-has been known ever since as
-one of the “three immortal drunkards of
-the Isle of Britain.” It is easy to imagine
-the result: the decay of the dyke, and the
-terrible night when the waters swept all
-before them and drowned the whole Cantref
-of Gwaelod. The point of Mochras near
-Llanbedr was at one extremity of the
-drowned cantref; and still, when the tide
-is low, you may sometimes see the long line
-of the broken dyke. As late as the year
-1824 there was a stone in existence which
-had been found below the sea a hundred
-yards beyond the shore, and bore an inscription
-meaning, “Here lies the boatman to
-King Gwynddo.”<a name="FNanchor_9" id="FNanchor_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> I do not know if the
-stone still exists, but as it was used as a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span>
-footbridge it probably does not. At the
-beginning of the nineteenth century this
-seems, in Wales, to have been considered the
-best way of using up old monuments. It was
-certainly the quickest.</p>
-
-<p>Eight miles from Llanbedr is Barmouth.
-The town itself is becoming every year
-more entirely a prey to the family group.
-Every year there are more hotels, more
-bathing-boxes, more wooden spades. But I
-doubt if anywhere in England or Wales a
-town is built in a more beautiful spot. You
-cannot drive across the long bridge that
-spans the estuary at its mouth, but you will
-be a thousandfold repaid if you leave your
-car and cross the bridge on foot, for the
-best view&mdash;I think I am not too rash in
-saying the best view in Wales&mdash;is from about
-the middle of the bridge. The Mawddach
-winds away between two ranges of mountains,
-on whose grand slopes the brilliant
-greens and purples, the rich browns and
-far-away faint blues change every moment
-under the varying sky. Cader Idris rises
-on the right in gloomy dignity from the
-soft drapery of foliage that is flung about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span>
-his feet. And in the foreground, when the
-tide is low&mdash;and that, I maintain, is the
-loveliest time&mdash;the blue sea is riven with
-the rosy gold of wet sands, dotted with
-countless sea-gulls.</p>
-
-<p>A great deal of this we can see as we
-drive up the estuary on its northern bank
-to Dolgelley, by an excellent road that clings
-close under the hills. Every moment the
-scene changes, and all the changes are good;
-whether we look across at Cader’s grand
-shoulder against the sky, or up the valley
-at the winding water and the distant hills,
-or overhead on our left at the mountain-sides
-that rise so steeply from the very
-road, or even when, the trees hemming us
-in for a moment, we see only glimpses
-through them of purple rock or shining
-river. At Llanelltyd the Mawddach meets
-the Wnion, and our way lies to the right
-over the bridge. As we cross the bridge
-the ruins of Cymmer Abbey lie upon our
-left on the river-bank&mdash;a Cistercian abbey,
-as we may easily guess, since we know the
-pretty taste in scenery possessed by that
-sagacious Order. If the truth were known,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span>
-I fear we might find that their motive
-in choosing, as they always did, the loneliest
-and loveliest spots in the country,
-was one of self-denial, for the mountainous
-solitude that we love was in their day
-regarded with little less than terror. This
-particular abbey was founded in the last
-years of the twelfth century, and it was
-patronised by Llewelyn the Great. Behind
-it, about two miles away, are the slopes
-of Nannau, where Owen Glyndwr once
-went for a walk with his cousin and came
-back without him.</p>
-
-<p>Owen, as I have already said, was a man
-of swift and extremely complete vengeance,
-and treachery made his gorge rise. His
-cousin, Howel Sele, the lord of Nannau,
-lived on that hill at the foot of Moel
-Offrwm, and had little sympathy&mdash;so far
-and so safe was he from the Marcher
-Lords&mdash;with Owen’s overbearing ways.
-Their relations had been strained, therefore;
-but when Howel asked his kinsman
-to visit him at Nannau Owen consented
-without hesitation&mdash;yet not without a coat
-of mail beneath his outer garment. As<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span>
-they walked in the park with a few
-retainers they saw a buck at some distance
-among the trees, and Owen, anxious
-to please, suggested that Howel should show
-his well-known prowess with the bow.
-Howel raised his bow, took aim, paused a
-moment; then suddenly turned upon his
-traitor’s heel and shot the arrow straight
-at the heart of his kinsman. One can
-picture Owen’s smile as the arrow rang
-upon the coat of mail that he wore unseen.</p>
-
-<p>Howel went home no more. What dreadful
-fate befel him no one knows for certain;
-for probably all his own retainers were
-killed and Owen’s were too busy to talk.
-But long afterwards a skeleton was found
-in a hollow tree quite near the spot where
-the famous bowman had drawn his bow
-for the last time. The house of Nannau
-was burnt to ashes.</p>
-
-<p>Before we cross the bridge to Dolgelley
-I should like to call attention to a very
-beautiful drive over the hills between this
-spot and Maentwrog. Beautiful as it is,
-it must on no account be substituted for
-the route by Harlech and the Barmouth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span>
-Estuary, by those who are travelling in
-this neighbourhood for the first time; but
-those who know the estuary well, or those
-who are staying at Dolgelley and wish for
-a circular drive, could not do better than
-go up the Vale of Ganllwyd and over the
-hills to Trawsfynydd and Maentwrog, lunch
-at the Tan-y-Bwlch hotel, and return by
-Harlech.</p>
-
-<p>For the first few miles the road rises
-through lovely woods; the tempestuous
-Mawddach shines behind the trees, and
-beyond it, bounding the narrow valley,
-are steep and craggy slopes. At Tyn-y-Groes
-is a charming little hotel, much
-frequented by fishermen, with a fine view
-of the Mawddach and the peak of Moel
-Offrwm; a delightful place to spend a
-week in summer, since it is within a drive
-of many of the loveliest parts of Wales,
-and has itself an outlook of very striking
-beauty.</p>
-
-<p>Beyond Tyn-y-Groes the scenery grows
-wilder and the hills more bare; the road
-rises rather steeply and the surface is not
-all that could be wished. Presently we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span>
-pass a turning on the left that would
-lead us, if we followed it, to the top of
-that strange colossal flight of steps whose
-lower end we saw at Cwm Bychan, the
-way by which the Romans climbed this
-mountain-side; and soon, as we reach the
-summit of the hill, the many peaks of
-the Snowdon range come into sight. After
-this, as is only to be expected, the view
-is continuously fine till we drop into Maentwrog
-on a precipitous gradient, and find
-ourselves in a valley famed for its beauty.</p>
-
-<p>But we must return to Dolgelley.</p>
-
-<p>“Dolgethle,” says Leland, who favoured
-phonetic spelling, “is the best village in
-this commote.” There is not much, if any,
-of Leland’s Dolgelley left, I imagine; but
-within the memory of this generation there
-was still standing a battered little cottage,
-built half of irregular stone-work and half
-of timber and plaster, that Leland may
-well have seen, though very likely it did
-not interest him nearly as much as it
-would interest us. It has been replaced
-by an ironmonger’s shop, and we now
-supply ourselves with petrol on the spot<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span>
-where “Owen, by the Grace of God Prince
-of Wales,” held his council, and drew up
-the instrument that allied him formally with
-the French. It was now some little time
-since Henry IV.’s council had written to
-him scornfully that the power of the rebels
-was not so great as it was heretofore reported,
-and that the people of Wales were
-but of little reputation; for which reason it
-seemed good to Henry, he said, “not to go
-thither in person, but by one of our Lords
-to do punishment on our said rebels.” Henry
-had said that just three years ago, yet the
-rebels were still unpunished. The chief rebel,
-indeed, was now become “our illustrious
-and most dread Lord, Owen, Prince of Wales,”
-signing alliances with his royal hand and
-seal, and receiving a gilded helmet as a
-gift from the King of France.</p>
-
-<p>At Dolgelley we turn eastwards and make
-our way back to the English border. As
-a matter of fact we have not actually reached
-the limits of North Wales, which is divided
-from South Wales by the river Dyfi, or
-Dovey. But for our present purpose it
-will be more convenient to consider a strip<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span>
-of the North&mdash;overlapping our present
-route&mdash;together with a strip of the South,
-as Mid-Wales, and to return to the border
-by the laborious but beautiful pass that
-rises between Dolgelley and Dinas Mawddy.</p>
-
-<p>We have six miles of climbing before us,
-close under the heights of Cader Idris,
-through one of the wildest tracts of country
-in wild Wales, where the road at last rises
-steeply between rough stone walls across a
-desolate moor, and a mountain stream dashes
-below us on the right, and in all probability
-a flock of little Welsh sheep makes excitedly
-for the nearest gap. For the Welsh sheep,
-unlike the sheep of England, has somewhere
-in its round, woolly head a glimmer of
-intelligence, and instead of rushing madly
-past every turning and every gap, knows
-where it wants to go and goes there with
-all possible despatch.</p>
-
-<p>At a point six miles above Dolgelley we
-reach the summit of this precipitous pass,
-the Bwlch Oerdrws, and the valley lies
-below us like a gulf. It is a fine scene
-and a very wild one&mdash;wild even when the
-sun is shining, but still wilder when the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>
-great bare hills are looming through driving
-clouds of rain, and wildest and most beautiful
-of all when the April snow is glistening
-upon the April gorse.</p>
-
-<p>The steepest part of the descent, the average
-gradient of which is between 1 in 7 and
-1 in 8, is about two miles long. For the
-rest of the journey, through Dinas Mawddy
-and Mallwyd, and up the long climb to
-Cann Office, and so by Llanfair Caereinion
-to Welshpool, there is nothing to pause for,
-except tea at Cann Office. This mysterious
-name, oddly enough, does not appear on
-Bartholomew’s map where the place it
-denotes is called Llangadfan. The little inn
-there is very popular with fishermen, who
-seem to have a wonderful knack of securing
-homely comfort.</p>
-
-<p>Between Cann Office and Welshpool the
-scenery gradually becomes more English in
-character, for Welshpool, though not actually
-on the border, is very near it. “The grounde
-about the bankes and valley of Severn there
-is most pleasunt,” says Leland; and “most
-pleasant,” I think, describes this country
-perfectly. I cannot do better than end in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span>
-his words. “And wille I passid this way
-within a iii miles of Walsch Pole I saw a
-veri notable hille beyound the valley on the
-lift hond having iii toppes as iii heddes
-rising owt of one body.... Communely
-thei be caullid Brethin Hilles. Not far
-from thes hilles enterith Shropshir.”</p>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill28" src="images/ill28.jpg" width="600" height="382" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">THE MAWDDACH, FROM TYN-Y-GROES HOTEL.</p></div>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill29" src="images/ill29.jpg" width="600" height="418" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">LLANIDLOES.</p></div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a><br /><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a><br /><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span></p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<h2><a name="THROUGH_THE_HEART_OF_WALES" id="THROUGH_THE_HEART_OF_WALES">THROUGH THE HEART OF WALES</a></h2>
-
-<p>One may enter Mid-Wales by the Severn
-Valley, or by Knighton and the Teme.
-The probability is that one’s action in this
-matter is entirely regulated by circumstances,
-but if haply it were possible to be
-guided simply by charm the road across the
-wild hills would be the road to choose. For
-wide moorlands, whatever the season, whatever
-the weather, never fail to be attractive;
-whereas the valley of the Upper
-Severn is extremely variable in its appearance.
-Indeed, I have seen it look almost
-uninteresting: though in the spring, when
-on every hill the fruit blossom is mingled
-with the piercing green of the budding
-larches, I know no place where the youth
-of the year has a more engaging air.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>In any case, we must pass through Newtown.
-Despite its name, despite its modern
-appearance, the newness of this town is only
-comparative; for its prosperity waxed, I
-believe, as that of Caersws waned; and
-Caersws, a little higher up the valley, was
-at its zenith in the days of the Romans.
-We pass it by and by on our right: a mere
-village now, of no particular attractions on
-the surface, though no doubt a sufficiently
-interesting past is buried beneath its soil,
-for hypocausts have been found here and
-tesselated pavement, and coins bearing the
-magic name of Marcus Aurelius and other
-names less honoured. Less authentic, but
-more moving, are the associations of the
-broad meadow on our left, the traditional
-scene of Sabrina’s flight from&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<div class="i14">“the mad pursuit</div>
-<div class="i0">Of her enragéd stepdame Guendolen,”</div>
-</div></div></div>
-
-<p>and therefore connected for ever with
-Milton’s exquisite lyric, “Sabrina fair.”
-This is the “glassy, cool, translucent wave”
-beneath which the goddess sits; this is “the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span>
-rushy-fringéd bank” from which&mdash;they say&mdash;she
-still sometimes rises at twilight; and
-here are the cowslips on which she sets
-“her printless feet” so lightly that they
-“bend not as she treads.”</p>
-
-<p>Between Llandinam and Llanidloes the
-scene begins to grow wilder; abrupt hills
-bare, or patched with gorse, rise from the
-roadside on our left; we are drawing nearer
-to the slopes of Plynlimmon. At Llanidloes
-there is a picturesque old market-place, and
-the church, founded in the seventh century,
-has some interesting and beautiful fragments
-from the Abbey of Cwm Hir; a row
-of fine Early English arches and some
-quaint figures on the beams that support
-the roof.</p>
-
-<p>At Llanidloes we leave the banks of the
-Severn, and, climbing all the way, pass
-through a prettily wooded gorge into the
-valley of another famous river&mdash;the river
-that is more renowned for beauty than any
-other in England&mdash;the Wye. But here at
-Llangurig the Wye has few charms, for we
-are at the foot of bleak Plynlimmon, and
-the river flows through a somewhat dull<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span>
-country that is neither fertile nor wild.
-Llangurig itself is a desolate, chilly little
-place, but it has a nice inn; and I believe
-the fishing is good. About eight miles beyond
-it we leave the Wye, now a mere
-mountain stream, at a point that is only four
-miles from its source, and after this the
-scenery grows more and more austere, as
-we skirt the bare sides of Plynlimmon.</p>
-
-<p>Upon those wind-swept slopes the red
-dragon of Wales was once unfurled; for
-here Owen Glyndwr, with only five hundred
-men, was surprised and surrounded by
-fifteen hundred of the Flemings of Pembrokeshire.
-He cut his way through them,
-and left two hundred of them behind
-him, and left behind him, too, an unshakable
-belief that he was a wizard
-indeed.</p>
-
-<p>These heights are not without grandeur.
-At one point, indeed, there is a very striking
-and unusual view, where the road is high
-upon the hillside, and the river, very far
-below, twists and curls away into the
-distance through a narrow but extremely
-level plain. The surface of this main road<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span>
-to Aberystwith is above reproach, but after
-we turn off to the left on the road to
-the Devil’s Bridge it is not so good and
-there are some rather steep hills.</p>
-
-<p>“If pleasant recollections,” says George
-Borrow, “do not haunt you through life of
-the noble falls, and the beautiful wooded
-dingles to the west of the Bridge of the
-Evil One, and awful and mysterious ones
-of the monks’ boiling cauldron, the long,
-savage, shadowy cleft, and the grey, crumbling,
-spectral bridge, I say boldly that you
-must be a very unpoetical person indeed.”</p>
-
-<p>The falls, and the wooded dingles, and
-the monks’ boiling cauldron are still beautiful
-enough to rouse any poetical feelings
-that we may possess; but the bridge, alas!
-is neither crumbling, nor spectral, nor in
-the least poetical. Three bridges now span
-the rushing waters of the Mynach, built
-closely one above the other. The lowest of
-all, dapper and shining with the cement of
-the restorer, is the original bridge built by
-the monks of Strata Florida in the eleventh
-century and ascribed to the Devil, not from
-any uncomplimentary feeling towards the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span>
-monks, but merely because the bridging of
-the Mynach was no easy matter and demanded
-a simple explanation. The bridge
-above this is the one that Borrow calls
-modern, though it was built in 1735, and
-now looks older than the first; the topmost
-and newest of all is quite a recent
-achievement, and might well appropriate
-the name of the original structure, since it
-entirely destroys all the picturesqueness of
-the scene. No doubt, however, its existence
-is necessary, for this is the only way across
-the gorge: and these beautiful wooded hills
-and deep valleys, with the two tempestuous
-streams, the Rheiddol and the Mynach, are
-by no means dependent for their charm on
-the famous bridge.</p>
-
-<p>The road from this spot to Aberystwith is
-of a most striking and uncommon character.
-It is raised high on one side of the bare
-hill, and overlooks a deep valley, through
-which the Rheiddol twists and curves. The
-great hills beyond the valley are richly
-green in summer, but in the spring are
-chiefly reddish brown, with streaks of the
-vivid larch, and here and there a shining<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span>
-patch of gorse. A run of twelve miles,
-mostly downhill, brings us to Aberystwith.</p>
-
-<p>At the first glance, seen from a distance,
-it is not unpicturesque. It lies at the end of
-a valley, with the sea beyond it, and in the
-heart of it the castle tower stands up conspicuously
-to remind one that Aberystwith
-was once something more interesting than a
-popular watering-place. For once all the
-resources of England were combined in an
-attack upon this castle. Guns came from
-Yorkshire, and timber from the Forest of
-Dean; huge supplies of arms and various
-murderous concoctions were sent from Hereford,
-and a shipload of carpenters landed in
-the bay to turn the timber into machines
-of war. There was not a young spark in
-the country, apparently, but thought it incumbent
-on him as a man of fashion to
-join Prince Hal outside the walls of Aberystwith.</p>
-
-<p>Yet the end of all this effort and display
-was merely comic. Glyndwr’s garrison at
-last, half starving, agreed to yield the castle
-upon a certain day unless Owen meanwhile
-relieved it. The Prince, too hasty, as he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span>
-sometimes was, went off to London joyfully
-and received the thanks of Parliament for
-having secured Aberystwith&mdash;at the very
-moment, had he but known it, when Owen
-and a relieving force were quietly entering
-the besieged castle!</p>
-
-<p>This was but one of many sieges suffered
-by Aberystwith, which was always regarded
-as a place of much importance; so
-much so, indeed, that Strongbow’s castle on
-this spot had been battered into uselessness
-before the days of Edward I., who had to
-build another. Prince Henry and Oliver
-have left little enough of that. What
-there is of it&mdash;some round towers and a
-piece of the curtain-wall&mdash;is more tidy than
-romantic. To tell the truth, Aberystwith is
-not a romantic place.</p>
-
-<p>It has been my happy fortune to read
-some manuscript letters written by a lady
-from Mid-Wales towards the end of the
-eighteenth century. This is what she says
-of Aberystwith&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>“I have inquired about Aberystwith, where
-the Sea is very rough, and no Apothecary
-near, and most ignorant people in regard<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span>
-to illness, which they are so happy to know
-nothing of, as the Sea is their ownly
-Physition.”</p>
-
-<p>This might be useful as a house-agent’s advertisement,
-if the next sentence were suppressed.</p>
-
-<p>“I think the Sea fogs very unwholesom,
-but dare not say so, as they are for ever
-talking about the purity of their air.”</p>
-
-<p>The sea is no longer the only physician
-at Aberystwith; but the purity of the air
-is still a topic of conversation.</p>
-
-<p>One of its advantages is that it is only
-fifteen miles from Ystradfflur or Strata
-Florida; and though this does not lie upon
-our route, so short a run is but a slight
-tribute to pay to a place of such great
-memories. The drive, moreover, will itself
-repay us. The road follows the Ystwith
-most of the way, and crosses it at Trawscoed,
-where splendid beeches overhang the river
-and masses of rhododendrons line the banks.
-There is one formidable hill, with a gradient
-of 1 in 8, from the top of which there is
-a fine view of winding river and wooded
-hills. Soon after leaving the Ystwith we
-join the Teify near its source.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>In the Abbey itself there is little to see,
-but very much to remember. It was
-founded in the twelfth century by some
-Cistercian monks on land given by a
-Norman; but its foundation is often ascribed
-to that great prince of South Wales, the
-Lord Rhys, who was one of its chief benefactors.
-Once it was the grandest house of
-worship in all Wales, the burial-place of
-her southern princes, the depository of her
-archives; but there is little left to show
-its past greatness but the unique west doorway
-and the remains of six side chapels&mdash;roofed
-now with corrugated iron! Behind the
-south transept is a wedge-shaped strip of
-ground that was the monks’ cemetery, where,
-under a stone carved plainly with a cross,
-lies Cadell, the brother of the Lord Rhys. The
-large cemetery that holds the dust of eleven
-Welsh princes is between the Abbey and
-the river. “The cœmiteri wherin the cunteri
-about doth buri is veri large,” says Leland,
-“and meanely waullid with stoone. In it
-be xxxix great hue trees.” There were
-originally forty of these yew-trees, and now
-there are but two or three, so it is hardly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span>
-likely that one of the survivors should be
-the tree underneath which Dafydd ap
-Gwilym, the greatest of Welsh poets, was
-buried; the tree of which Gruffydd Gryg,
-his rival, wrote&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<div class="i0">“May lightnings never lay thee low</div>
-<div class="i0">Nor archer cut from thee his bow.”</div>
-</div></div></div>
-
-<p>Mr. Baring-Gould tells us how these two
-bards were constantly in a state of feud
-and bitter rivalry, till an ingenious friend
-put an end to their quarrels by simply
-telling each of them that the other was
-dead, and was to be buried at Strata Florida
-on such-and-such a day&mdash;mentioning the
-same day in both cases. Each of the poets,
-in the glow of generosity consequent on the
-death of a hated rival, composed a beautiful
-ode in praise of his enemy, and proceeded
-to the churchyard to read it beside the
-grave. There, of course, they met; and
-each, determined to read his ode at any
-cost, forthwith read it to the hero of it,
-and buried his enmity instead of his enemy.</p>
-
-<p>It was somewhere within that “meanely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span>
-waullid” cemetery that this quaint scene
-took place; and it was somewhere within
-these precincts that a thousand frightened
-children crowded together long ago, waiting
-to be carried away from their parents and
-homes in Cardiganshire to the exile in
-England to which Henry IV. had doomed
-them. That is an ill-omened name in
-Ystradfflur&mdash;the name of Henry Bolingbroke&mdash;for
-in his fury at the rebellion of Glyndwr
-he fell upon this sacred place and ruined
-it, and drove out its monks, and stabled his
-horses at its High Altar.</p>
-
-<p>To reach Machynlleth, which is our object,
-we must return to Aberystwith&mdash;but we may
-do this by a slightly different road, diverging
-at Trawscoed. The surface is better than
-that of the other, and the road is wider,
-but there is one bad hill, with a nominal
-gradient of 1 in 7. As we approach
-Aberystwith we see, beyond the river, a
-little place called Llanbadarn Fawr. Here,
-in very early times, long before the great
-days of Ystradfflur, there was a famous
-monastery, founded by St. Padarn, a contemporary
-of St. David. Like St. David’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span>
-own monastery, it was laid waste by the
-Danes.</p>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill30" src="images/ill30.jpg" width="468" height="600" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">ARCHWAY AT STRATA FLORIDA.</p></div>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill31" src="images/ill31.jpg" width="436" height="600" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">NEAR GLANDOVEY.</p></div>
-
-<p>Passing through Aberystwith we climb
-out of it on the further side by a long hill.
-Except the wide view from this hill there
-is nothing of special attraction in any way
-till we have passed Tal-y-bont. Then
-suddenly there comes into sight the headland
-beyond the Dyfi (Dovey). Far away
-on the left is the sea, and between us and
-it lies a wide and absolutely level plain,
-with Borth showing darkly on the shore.
-Soon we pass Tre-Taliesin, named from the
-great bard of Arthur’s day, whose grave is
-said by some to lie on this hillside to the
-right, and by others to be beside the waters
-of Geirionydd. Beyond this village we climb
-through lovely woods of birch and larch, and
-then we run down, leaving the trees behind
-us, into the beautiful estuary of the Dyfi.
-A wide sea of gorse is at out feet; the river
-winds through the shallows beyond; and,
-bounding the valley and the view, rises the
-mighty wall of North Wales.</p>
-
-<p>This is on the left&mdash;a wide and splendid
-landscape; and meanwhile on the right<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span>
-are wild hills rising from the road, cleft
-here and there by narrow wooded gorges
-or tumbling mountain streams. At Ysgubor-y-coed
-the water dashes down between
-sharp rocks, and makes a lovely picture
-with the great mill-wheel and mossy-tiled
-building that stand beside it; and just
-beyond Glan Dovey station we catch a
-momentary glimpse of the steep sides of
-the beautiful Llyfnant Valley. Thence four
-level miles bring us to Machynlleth.</p>
-
-<p>There is a charm about Machynlleth. Its
-wide central street is planted with trees.
-In most Welsh towns, History, though she
-has lived in them so long, has rather an
-uneasy air: tales of valour, or of treachery
-on a large scale, blend rather incongruously
-with prim grey houses and slate roofs.
-But in Machynlleth we are quite prepared
-to learn that these quaint and quiet streets&mdash;and
-some of the houses, even&mdash;are bound
-up very closely with the picturesque life
-of the last of the Welsh princes: so closely
-indeed, that Owen Glyndwr’s royal seal
-figures in the arms of the town. In those
-low, whitewashed cottages he held his first<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span>
-parliament; and in that little corner-house
-in the next street he rested the uneasy
-head that wore a crown for such a brief
-and troublous time. It is the oldest house
-in Wales, they say, but much renovation
-and a new chimney have destroyed any
-picturesqueness it ever had; and it is now
-neither as venerable nor as interesting in
-appearance as the Old Mayor’s House, a
-timber-and-plaster building at one end of
-the main street, with gables leaning in all
-directions. Neither do the whitewashed
-Houses of Parliament show any signs of
-their distinguished past&mdash;yet here Glyndwr
-accepted his crown and very nearly lost
-his life. For among the members of this
-his first parliament was one who was his
-enemy, and the sworn man of the House
-of Lancaster. Davy Gam, “the Crooked,”
-a little red-haired, squinting man who,
-whatever he was, was no coward, came to
-this house with the intention of killing
-Glyndwr, but being betrayed, was thrown
-into prison for ten years, while his house
-near Brecon was burnt to ashes. Owen,
-with unusual forbearance, spared his life,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span>
-perhaps in acknowledgment of the man’s
-courage in coming among his enemies
-single-handed. He showed his courage more
-honourably at Agincourt. “There are enough
-to kill,” he said of the French just before
-the battle, “enough to be taken prisoners,
-and enough to run away.” He died on that
-field, and was knighted by Henry V. as he
-lay dying. “He lived like a wolf and died
-like a lion,” it has been said of him.</p>
-
-<p>Now, on leaving Machynlleth, supposing
-it to be our intention to go on to Dolgelley
-and so to Bala, we have a choice of roads.
-All the ways are so beautiful, however,
-that we can hardly go wrong; but those
-who fix upon the shortest way, by Corris,
-should know that they will find it well
-worth while to run down the estuary to
-Aberdovey and back again. For this estuary
-of the Dyfi is second only to that of the
-Mawddach in beauty.</p>
-
-<p>Its best time, certainly, is in the summer,
-for the hills are thickly wooded; but at
-all seasons there is a lovely view at every
-turn of the road. One of those that haunt
-the memory is from the point where the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span>
-road to Aberdovey, after passing through
-Pennal, comes again within sight of the
-river. In the foreground is a wide expanse
-of rich colouring, of red and brown, green
-and gold and russet; beyond it shines a
-thin line of silver; and beyond that again
-rise the hills of South Wales&mdash;not so imposing
-by any means as that massive bulwark
-of mountains that we saw from the
-other side and are now close under, but
-yet very beautiful in colour and bold in
-outline. As the estuary widens a succession
-of headlands stretch out before us, one beyond
-another, and round these the road
-curves, sometimes very sharply. At the
-extreme mouth of the estuary lies Aberdovey,
-in the shelter of the hills.</p>
-
-<p>The same eighteenth-century lady whom
-I quoted before describes a visit to “Aberdove
-Seaport,” as she calls it. “Down we
-set at the window,” she says, “... to
-see the Sea hempty it self in to a Beautifull
-serpentine river, at the beginning of which
-lay ten ships at harbour.” One cannot
-marvel that any one should sit down at a
-window to watch so strange a phenomenon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span>
-as the sea emptying itself into a river.
-Unfortunately this interesting sight cannot
-now be promised to visitors at Aberdovey;
-but the “beginning” of the river still owes
-much of its picturesque effect to the little
-quays that jut out into the stream, and the
-ships of considerable size that lie “at
-harbour.” The best hotel, and it is an
-extremely nice one, is a short distance
-beyond the little town, and is perched on the
-hillside above the golf-links, facing the sea.</p>
-
-<p>It was somewhere in this estuary, probably
-on the shore of the Traeth Maelgwyn,
-that a strange scene took place between
-thirteen and fourteen hundred years ago.
-Maelgwyn, that King of Gwynedd whose
-name recurs so often in the history of
-North Wales, that gigantic man of fitful
-valour and still more fitful piety, determined
-to unite all the strength of the west
-under one ruler, the better to oppose the
-conquering Saxons. It was agreed that all
-the princes and knights who had any pretensions
-should meet together in the estuary
-of the Dyfi, the dividing-line between North
-and South Wales; that they should there<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span>
-seat themselves on chairs upon the shore,
-and he who contrived to keep his seat the
-longest should be the king. Then Maelgwyn,
-having settled these preliminaries, had a
-wonderful chair made for himself of the
-wings of birds, waxed. As the tide rose
-the seats of the other princes were overturned,
-but Maelgwyn’s chair floated on the
-surface of the sea. So Maelgwyn became
-chief of all the princes of the west.</p>
-
-<p>From Aberdovey, as I said before, we
-may, if we choose, drive straight on round
-the coast by Towyn and Fairbourne, and up
-the southern side of the Barmouth estuary
-to Dolgelley. Or we may turn eastward at
-Towyn, and reach Dolgelley by way of
-Tal-y-llyn. Or, thirdly, we may return to
-Machynlleth and drive thence to Dolgelley
-by Corris.</p>
-
-<p>No motorist should really rest satisfied
-till he has driven on all these roads, so
-beautiful are the three. Towyn, I believe,
-has charms for many, but on the surface
-it is singularly unattractive. It has a very
-ancient church, however, built in the twelfth
-century by Gruffyd ap Cynan, of whom it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span>
-was said that he built so many that his
-country “glittered with whitewashed churches
-as the heavens are bright with stars.” Near
-it are some extremely interesting old
-memorial stones; but here, to all appearance,
-the interest of Towyn begins and
-ends. Beyond it there are some fine views
-of the hills as the road turns inland; and
-again when it turns to the coast and, high
-on the side of the cliff, curves round into
-the Barmouth estuary, the effect is really
-fine. It must have been of this part of
-the road that a traveller once wrote: “We
-ascended a precipice, frightful beyond description,
-on one side of us was the highest
-ragget Rock I have seen, the stones to
-appearance lose, and look as if just droping
-on your heads, some of which have fell a
-few years ago. The Precipice down to the
-Mean (Main) Ocean not less than thirty
-yards, and us travlers not a yard from
-the side of it, where the waves dash and
-tide rores, till it made me tremble.” Grand
-as these “ragget” cliffs are, however, the
-most beautiful part of this drive is in the
-Barmouth estuary, under the shadow of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span>
-Cader Idris. But to many travellers in
-Wales this valley of the Mawddach is
-thoroughly familiar, and to them I heartily
-recommend the road by Corris.</p>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill32" src="images/ill32.jpg" width="600" height="413" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">THE MAYOR’S HOUSE, MACHYNLLETH.</p></div>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill33" src="images/ill33.jpg" width="600" height="346" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">THE RIVER DULAS.</p></div>
-
-<p>From Aberdovey one drives back to a
-point in the Dyfi Valley almost opposite to
-Machynlleth. The river Dulas, near the
-point where it joins the Dyfi, is spanned
-by a fine old bridge, whose arches have
-resounded to the tramp of Henry Tudor’s
-followers, as he and they marched eastwards
-to fight for the crown; and to the tramp
-of Cromwell’s men as they marched westwards
-to fight, if not for the crown, for
-everything that goes with it. It is at this
-point that we turn sharply to the left and
-follow the course of the Dulas. This opening
-of the valley of Corris is very lovely, for the
-river, which has all the impetuosity of a
-mountain stream, is overhung by splendid
-trees, and through their stems in the spring
-we may see the further bank, steep and
-mossy, and thickly jewelled with primroses.
-The whole of this narrow and wild valley,
-indeed, is full of beauty. The road rises
-gradually to a considerable height; then<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span>
-beyond Upper Corris, where the landscape
-is defaced, as so often in Wales, by enormous
-banks of slate, it drops down by some very
-steep gradients, amid fine mountain scenery,
-to the level of Tal-y-llyn.</p>
-
-<p>It is only the eastern extremity of the
-lake that we see, and this we leave behind
-us, turning at this point sharply to the
-right into a defile of extreme barrenness.
-This narrow gorge, with its towering sides
-reft and lacerated by landslips, its huge
-boulders poised as though about to fall,
-its grey slopes softened only here and there
-by patches of short grass, is the most
-utterly, the most desolately savage spot I
-have seen in Wales. As we leave it and
-emerge into more open country, we realise
-that those wild slopes were the foot of
-Cader Idris, for looking back we see the
-heavy grey shoulder of the mountain. Soon
-we reach Cross Foxes, and thence run
-down through beautiful woods on a delightful
-gradient to Dolgelley, with the
-purple hills of the Mawddach estuary showing
-in a long line above and behind the
-vivid green of the trees.</p>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill34" src="images/ill34.jpg" width="600" height="412" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">THE PASS OF CORRIS, NEAR TAL-Y-LLYN.</p></div>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill35" src="images/ill35.jpg" width="600" height="448" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">BALA LAKE.</p></div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span>In Dolgelley, as we saw before, all the
-historical interest is concentrated on a
-lamp-shop. There is nothing to keep us
-there, unless we wish for a meal, or perchance
-a bed, at the “Golden Lion,” or unless
-we mean to use the place, as many do, as
-a centre for expeditions. But at present
-our concern is to turn towards the English
-frontier, and to reach it through Bala and
-Llanrhaiadr.</p>
-
-<p>For ten miles after we leave Dolgelley
-the road ascends, persistently but never
-steeply. The backward views of mountain,
-wood, and stream are unfailingly lovely
-on this road, as on all others that converge
-at Dolgelley; and no less attractive in its
-own way is the wilder scenery at the top
-of this hill, which is practically a pass. From
-the summit we descend to the shores of
-Bala Lake, and after driving for three
-miles close beside its waters we reach the
-little town.</p>
-
-<p>It is not an especially attractive place.
-The neighbourhood of the lake is of course
-pleasant, but the hotel&mdash;which, by the way,
-like many Welsh inns, contains some lovely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span>
-old furniture&mdash;looks out over the street.
-The scenery of the lake is pretty rather
-than grand.</p>
-
-<p>Bala must have been more interesting, I
-think, in Pennant’s day. It must certainly
-have presented an appearance all its own;
-for he assures us that the entire population&mdash;men,
-women, and children&mdash;spent all
-their time in knitting stockings. They
-knitted in their doorways, they knitted as
-they walked about the streets, and on fine
-days they sat together on the tumulus
-at the end of the town, and knitted there.
-On Saturdays the fruit of all this industry
-was sold, to the value of four or five hundred
-pounds, in a special stocking-market. This
-must have been a sight worth seeing.</p>
-
-<p>We may still see the Tomen-y-Bala, the
-tumulus where the knitters used to sit and
-sun themselves, and where, very long ago,
-a little castle stood. The mound has been
-made very neat, with gravel paths and
-rhododendrons; and by paying a small sum
-we may climb to its modest summit and
-give a thought to the Romans who made
-the tumulus, and the Britons who made the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span>
-castle, and the past generations who made
-stockings.</p>
-
-<p>Leaving Bala, we may follow the Dee to
-Corwen, and there join the great London
-and Holyhead road; and this is by far the
-simplest route we can choose.</p>
-
-<p>The route we should certainly <i>not</i> choose
-is the so-called road from Bala to Lake
-Vyrnwy, the reservoir of Liverpool. The
-scenery round this lake is very beautiful,
-it is true, and an excellent hotel stands
-high on the hillside above the water; and
-since there is no railway among these wild
-hills, this is one of the places that show the
-uses of the motor-car most strikingly. But
-Vyrnwy should be approached from Shropshire,
-by way of Llanfyllin. The road that
-connects it with Bala is a narrow, precipitous
-pass, cut on the side of a slope
-that is at some points almost a precipice,
-unprotected by any kind of fence, sloping
-downwards on the outer side, and crossed
-at short intervals by natural water-channels.
-It is a discouraging picture, and the reality
-is, to put it mildly, uncomfortable.</p>
-
-<p>As an alternative to the Corwen road we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span>
-may cross the Holy Dee at the very spot
-where the “wizard stream,” as Milton calls
-it&mdash;that stream that had the gift of prophesying
-good or evil fortune to the cause
-of Wales&mdash;flows from the parent waters of
-Llyn Tegid or Bala Lake, and following a
-mountain road of many “dangerous” hills,
-visit the waterfall at Llanrhaiadr before we
-pass into Shropshire.</p>
-
-<p>The fall is at a lonely spot about four
-miles beyond the village of Llanrhaiadr,
-which is itself a pretty place with a nice
-inn. The road that leads to Pistyll-y-Rhaiadr
-is little more than a lane, but one may drive
-up almost to the very foot of the fall.
-“Prodigious high,” says the letter-writer I
-have so often quoted: “and seemingly the
-hend of the world.” There is really some
-excuse for this dramatic statement. An
-abrupt mass of rock rises before us impassably.
-On each side of it are pine-woods,
-climbing the craggy slopes. There is an air
-of finality about the place: it is “seemingly
-the hend of the world.”</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a><br /><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p>
-<h2><a name="A_TOUR_IN_SOUTH_WALES" id="A_TOUR_IN_SOUTH_WALES">A TOUR IN SOUTH WALES</a></h2>
-
-<p>For those whose affections are at all
-equally divided between natural beauty
-and historical interest the map of South
-Wales presents a dilemma. The imperative
-thing is to avoid the once beautiful hills
-and valleys that are now scarred, and rent,
-and blackened with coal-dust; and this may
-be done by taking either the moorland road
-above the mining country, or the level road
-below it near the sea. Now I, who know
-both these roads, assure you that in adopting
-either of these courses you will miss much.
-For if you choose the lower road, tempted
-by its excellence, you will miss some of the
-finest scenery in South Wales, which, though
-not to be compared with the North, is yet
-beautiful; and if you choose the upper one
-you will miss the romance of Beaupré, and
-the very ancient memories of Llantwit<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span>
-Major, and you will, moreover, miss a good
-many miles of as fine a road as ever made an
-engine purr. There is only one way out of this
-dilemma, namely, to follow a zigzag course,
-from the sea to the hills, from the hills to the
-sea, and so enjoy the best of both roads.</p>
-
-<p>To avoid the mines we must aim very low;
-at Cardiff or Caerphilly. And if we are
-approaching the Border from Monmouth or
-Hereford, or the Midlands, we shall probably,
-just before we reach the spreading outskirts
-of Newport, pass through a village with a
-great name. A dull, sleepy-looking village
-it is, standing in a commonplace landscape
-beside a very dirty stream, a place entirely
-without superficial attractions. But it is a
-name to conjure with. Caerleon-upon-Usk,
-the City of Legions! Once it “abounded
-in wealth above all other cities, ... and
-passing fair was the magnificence of the
-kingly palaces thereof.” The gilded roofs of
-the Romans glittered here beside the Usk,
-and the great amphitheatre that may still
-be traced once echoed to the shouts of the
-second legion: towers and temples, baths
-and aqueducts and splendid buildings stood<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span>
-where now a few poor houses keep alive
-the name of Caerleon. Round its shining
-palaces grew up a world of legend. We
-know all about the fine doings at Arthur’s
-coronation here: how he and Guinevere were
-crowned in different churches, and how the
-music in both was “so transporting” that
-the congregations ran to and fro between
-one church and the other all day; and how
-a banquet of great splendour followed, with
-Caius, the server, dressed in ermine, and
-Bedver, the butler, waiting with all kinds
-of cups, and hosts of noblemen handing the
-dishes; and how, after the feast, the soldiers
-got up a sham fight to amuse the ladies,
-who sat on the town walls and “darted
-amorous glances in a sportive manner.” And
-in the “Mabinogion” we are given a more
-domestic picture of King Arthur at Caerleon-upon-Usk:
-a picture of him in his
-palace dozing upon a seat of green rushes
-covered with flame-coloured satin, with a
-red satin cushion under his elbow, while
-Guinevere and her handmaidens sit at their
-needlework by the window, and a group of
-knights are drinking mead from a golden<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span>
-goblet. And at Caerleon, too, it was that
-Maxen Wledig, the truant Emperor of Rome,
-built one of three great castles for Helen,
-his wife. He had seen her first in a dream,
-and sought her by land and sea, and having
-found her he forgot his Empire and lived
-in Britain seven years. So they made them
-a new Emperor in Rome.</p>
-
-<p>“And this one wrote a letter of threat
-to Maxen. There was nought in the letter
-but only this, ‘If thou comest, and if thou
-ever comest to Rome.’ And even unto
-Caerleon came this letter to Maxen, and
-these tidings. Then sent he a letter to the
-man who styled himself Emperor in Rome.
-There was nought in that letter also but only
-this, ‘If I come to Rome, and if I come.’”</p>
-
-<p>So, through the Middle Ages, the memory
-of the great days of Caerleon was preserved
-in legend.</p>
-
-<p>Long before we have finished dreaming of
-King Arthur and his red satin cushion the
-tram-lines of Newport force themselves upon
-our attention. Newport was so called, I
-believe, because it superseded Caerleon, the
-old port, of which Leland says: “Very great<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span>
-shyppes might wel cum now to the town,
-as they did in the Romaynes tyme, but
-that Newport Bridge is a lette.”</p>
-
-<p>Before leaving Newport any one who is
-likely to be hungry soon will do well to
-secure a meal, for though Cardiff is not
-far away the ruins of Caerphilly take some
-time to see, and the little town cannot be
-depended upon for food. And we must on
-no account miss seeing Caerphilly; for this
-vast ruin covers more ground than any other
-in this island, and, moreover, has the special
-distinction of being a characteristically
-Edwardian castle of a date earlier than
-Edward’s. It was chiefly the work of Gilbert
-de Clare, the Red Earl of Gloucester,
-whose architect, unlike that great artist,
-Henry de Elfreton, thought little of beauty
-when he designed these mighty walls, but
-altogether of strength. “Waules of a
-wonderful thickness,” says Leland; and of
-a wonderful thickness they are, and of a
-wonderful tenacity too, seeing that one of
-the great bastions that were mined with
-gunpowder in the Civil War was only half
-ruined, and the other half has been leaning<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span>
-at a most surprising angle ever since. The
-history of the ruins is not at all in proportion
-to their size; and, indeed, it is possible
-that their size and strength may have
-acted as a deterrent to the makers of
-history. There is a story that Edward II.
-took refuge here with the Despensers; but
-even these unyielding walls failed to give
-any real sense of security to that poor spirit
-and at the first word of his enemies’ approach
-he hurried away, preferring to trust to disguise.
-He chose the inappropriate <i>rôle</i> of
-a farm labourer&mdash;this indolent, boudoir-King,
-who had never done a day’s work in his
-life&mdash;and he failed signally to please his
-master, who was as anxious to be rid of
-him as his subjects were. It was soon
-after this that he was captured and led
-away to the horrors of Berkeley Castle.</p>
-
-<p>On the direct route from Caerphilly to
-Cardiff there rises such a precipitous hill that
-the longer way by Nantgarw is really the
-best; and unless Cardiff has some special
-attraction for us there is no need to thread
-our way through its modern streets and its
-maze of tram-lines. For the Cardiff of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span>
-Romans, and of the Welsh princes of Morganwg,
-and of the Norman barons, is altogether
-overpowered by the Cardiff of
-commerce; and though there is a fragment
-left of the castle that has sheltered so many
-crowned heads at various times, the castle in
-which poor blind Robert of Normandy was a
-prisoner for twenty-eight years, yet even this
-is modernised and closed to the public.</p>
-
-<p>But in Llandaff, which is now practically a
-suburb of Cardiff, there are still signs of age:
-a picturesque green and restored cross, some
-pretty old houses, and the cathedral of the
-most ancient see in the island. For even
-when St. Teilo of the sixth century laid the
-foundation of the first cathedral the bishopric
-of Llandaff had been in existence for more
-than five hundred years. By the eleventh
-century Teilo’s cathedral was past repair;
-and when the “business of the Cross was
-publicly proclaimed” here it was in a new
-building that the Archbishop celebrated mass&mdash;the
-same building, more or less, that stands
-down there in that curious hollow to-day.
-More or less: for the restorations of this
-greatly chastened cathedral have been many,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span>
-and it has narrowly escaped suffering even
-more terrible things at the hands of its well-wishers.
-Jasper Tudor’s beautiful and uncommon
-west tower, for instance, was once
-threatened by an eighteenth-century bishop,
-a versatile soul who wrote a successful
-“Treatise on the Modes.” He was evidently
-more capable of dealing with the modes than
-with ecclesiastical architecture, for we hear
-that he was seized with a longing to remove
-Jasper’s tower and replace it with a rustic
-porch.<a name="FNanchor_10" id="FNanchor_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> For once the poverty of the see was
-a fortunate circumstance, and saved the
-tower. But no doubt that same poverty
-injured the building greatly on many
-occasions; for at one time the see was so
-cruelly robbed by the Crown that its brave
-and humorous bishop had himself presented
-to Henry VIII. as the Bishop of Aff. “I was
-the Bishop of Llandaff,” he explained, “but
-lately the <i>land</i> has been removed.”<a name="FNanchor_11" id="FNanchor_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a></p>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill36" src="images/ill36.jpg" width="600" height="428" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">CAERPHILLY CASTLE.</p></div>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill37" src="images/ill37.jpg" width="460" height="600" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">BEAUPRÉ CASTLE.</p></div>
-
-<p>The tombs of Llandaff Cathedral are of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span>
-great interest; and it is with real pleasure
-that one sees the new, for once, not unworthy
-to be beside the old. The recumbent figure
-of marble on the grave of Dean Vaughan is
-really beautiful.</p>
-
-<p>As we climb the long hill a mile or two
-beyond Llandaff, we see Cardiff stretched
-out below us, a forest of masts and tall
-chimneys&mdash;an impressive symbol in its way.
-Then, when we reach the level ground, we
-forget everything for a time but the sheer
-delight of moving on a perfect road&mdash;forget
-even the heights of Exmoor showing faintly
-across the water on the left, and on the right
-the wild hills of Glamorganshire rolling away
-into the distance.</p>
-
-<p>Now, at Cowbridge, it is necessary to come
-to a decision. If it should be too much for
-the resolution of an ardent motorist to leave
-this road, he may pursue his way to Neath
-without “lette,” as Leland would say; but
-for all antiquarians, artists, and other lovers
-of romance and beauty, the finger-post points
-very resolutely to a detour by Beaupré,
-Llantwit, St. Donat’s, and Ewenny.</p>
-
-<p>About two miles south of Cowbridge is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span>
-Old Beaupré (Bewper). Do not climb the
-stile and walk across the fields, but drive on
-a hundred yards or so to the gate; for this
-grass-grown, deserted avenue is the fitting
-approach to the spellbound house of the
-Bassetts, that strange mixture of splendour
-and squalor, with its delicate carvings and
-dainty Corinthian pillars and its air of utter
-desolation. We know very well as we look
-at it that fair faces once looked down through
-those Tudor windows, and gay satins swept
-between the classic columns of the doorway,
-and the walls echoed to music and singing
-and laughter, until the fatal day that an
-enchantment was laid upon the beautiful
-white doorway of the love-lorn Welshman
-who learnt his art in Italy, and upon the
-avenue that once led the Bassetts out to war
-and home to love, and upon every stone of
-the old castle, so that it became a farmhouse.
-And now the fluted pillars and carved friezes
-are green with moss and fringed with ferns,
-and the walls echo to nothing but the
-clucking of innumerable hens.</p>
-
-<p>Beaupré is not greatly visited. There is,
-indeed, nothing to see but that strange,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span>
-incongruous doorway and the ghosts that
-flutter round it; but it is one of those
-eloquent, unforgettable places through which,
-for a moment, one seems to be actually in
-touch with the life that they have seen.</p>
-
-<p>At Llantwit Major the interest is of a very
-different kind. Here there is not very much
-to attract the artist, but to the antiquary
-and historian “the dwelling-place and home
-of the Blessed Illtyd” must surely be of the
-first importance. For it was here that the
-Breton saint, St. Iltutus, or Illtyd, founded
-a monastery and university that made a very
-deep mark upon the life of the sixth century;
-for its professors educated not only all the
-princes of the west, but also every illustrious
-Welshman&mdash;bishop, saint, or scholar&mdash;of the
-day. It is not surprising that an institution
-of its size and brilliancy&mdash;for its 2,400 students
-filled four hundred houses&mdash;should have seized
-the imagination of early writers, and given
-rise to so much picturesque legend that it is
-hard to know the truth. Some say that
-St. David himself was taught by St. Illtyd,
-and that Gildas the historian, called the
-Wise, and Taliesin, the bard of the Radiant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span>
-Brow, were also brought up here. Of Illtyd
-himself the tale is told that he was originally
-a soldier, but hearing the call, he forsook his
-profession and his wife for the life of a
-hermit; and when his poor wife came to him,
-one day as he was working in the fields, he
-silently turned away from her, and stood
-so, with his back to her, till she left him in
-despair. This is a pathetic foundation for
-all the scholarship and saintliness of the
-sixth century in Wales, and one can only
-hope, for the sake of Illtyd’s conscience when
-he was a comfortable professor, that it is
-untrue. Of all the four hundred houses and
-seven halls of his university not a stone is
-now left; but in the church, which is itself
-very full of interest, there are some wonderful
-monuments, one of them being a
-memorial raised to St. Illtyd by one of his
-pupils, Samson, a saint himself. The head
-of the cross is gone, but on the shaft the
-beautiful Celtic designs are still clear and
-the words still legible to those who can
-read them&mdash;“Samson placed this cross for
-his soul.”</p>
-
-<p>Just beyond Llantwit and nearer to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span>
-Bristol Channel is St. Donat’s, which, as
-Leland says, “stondith on a meane hille a
-quarter of a mile from the Severn Se.” This
-castle, partly Norman and partly Tudor, has
-been inhabited ever since the Norman conquest
-of Glamorgan; and so, as “the parkes
-booth and the castell long to ... a gentilman
-of very fair landes in that countery,” we
-can see no more than a glimpse of towers
-above the trees. But we pass close to the
-churchyard, and there we may see the very
-beautiful and uninjured Celtic cross.</p>
-
-<p>From St. Donat’s we may rejoin the main
-road at Bridgend; but in this country, where
-good accommodation is not always to be
-found, it is well to know that there is a
-very nice modern hotel at Southerndown,
-with the Channel and the Exmoor coast in
-front of it and the trees and Castle of Dunraven
-near at hand. The actual building of
-Dunraven is new, but a castle has stood on
-the same spot for many generations, through
-many tragedies. In Henry VIII.’s reign the
-lord of Dunraven, Boteler, or Butler, lost all
-his children but one on the same day. He
-saw them die, perhaps, for the windows of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span>
-his castle looked out across the waters that
-drowned them. Only one girl was left, and
-through her Dunraven passed to the Vaughans,
-who do not always seem to have made
-a good use of its position. For in Tenby
-Church lies the dust of a certain Walter of
-that house, who figures darkly in one of
-those moral tales&mdash;one might almost call
-them tracts&mdash;of which one occasionally hears
-in actual life. In Walter’s day, which was
-also the day of Queen Mary, these shores of
-Dunraven twinkled with treacherous lights,
-which lured unwary ships to the shore, causing
-their complete destruction and the great
-enrichment of the lord of the manor. At
-last, after years of this villainy, he was
-waiting one night for the fruits of his
-labours, waiting while the doomed ship was
-shaken to pieces and the bodies of her crew
-were one by one washed ashore. The last
-body that came was that of his own sailor-son.</p>
-
-<p>Whether we approach Bridgend from
-Llantwit or from Southerndown, we shall
-see on our right the embattled tower of
-Ewenny among the trees. The restored
-conventual buildings of this very ancient<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span>
-Benedictine Priory are now a private house,
-but by leaving the high-road we may pass
-the fortified gateway that once stood between
-the monks and their enemies. There
-is no finer example, I believe, of a monastery
-that is also a castle, and no doubt it is
-partly owing to the strength of its defences
-that the Priory of Ewenny still stands in
-its original Norman austerity, not as a
-picturesque ruin, but as a parish church.
-With the exception of one or two Tudor
-windows, it is pure Norman throughout,
-very simple, very dignified; and it is still
-divided, according to ancient custom, into
-two separate churches that were used respectively
-by the monastery and the parish
-at large. The founder, whose beautiful
-tomb is wonderfully well preserved, was
-Maurice de Londres, whose name we shall
-meet again in a less amiable connection at
-Kidwelly. A great deal has been done in
-the way of restoring and preserving Ewenny
-by its owners, the ancient lords of Coity,
-whose great castle lies in ruins a few miles
-away. The Norman marchers of their house,
-it is said, set out to win the lands of Coity<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span>
-by force of arms, but seeing the fair daughter
-of the Welshman who owned them, he was
-himself won, and never a blow was struck,
-for Coity became his by marriage. How
-much of this story is true I do not know,
-but it is certainly true that his descendants
-have lived within a few miles of the spot
-from that day to this.</p>
-
-<p>At Bridgend we rejoin the road that we
-left so reluctantly at Cowbridge, and soon,
-on the right, we pass the hills of Margam,
-at whose foot are the fragments of a famous
-Cistercian abbey, more celebrated, we are
-told, for its charitable deeds than any of
-that Order in Wales; while on the left there
-stretch between us and the sea the dreary
-sands that long ago buried&mdash;“shokid and
-devourid”&mdash;the castle and lands of Kenfig.
-The hills, cleft here and there with deep
-wooded valleys, are every moment drawing
-nearer; a strip of glittering sea appears beyond
-the sands, and beyond that again are
-the Mumbles. For a little time the masts
-of Aberavon rise picturesquely on the skyline,
-but they are too soon replaced by the
-chimneys of Briton Ferry.</p>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill38" src="images/ill38.jpg" width="600" height="451" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">EWENNY PRIORY.</p></div>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill39" src="images/ill39.jpg" width="600" height="450" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">NEATH ABBEY.</p></div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span>It was here that the travellers of old days
-used to ford the river Neath. It was a
-dangerous ford, famous for its quicksands.
-Wherefore a certain twelfth-century bishop
-of St. David’s, being of a prudent temperament
-and desirous to cross, selected one of
-his minor clergy to ford the river before
-him, a “chaplain of those parts,” who had
-lately incurred the bishop’s displeasure, and
-had been suspended. The chaplain meekly
-consented; took the bishop’s best horse for
-the purpose; crossed in safety, and forthwith
-rode away. And it was only when
-the bishop restored the cure that the chaplain
-restored the horse.</p>
-
-<p>This pleasant little story, recalled by the
-name of the ugly smoky town of Briton
-Ferry, will help us through the dismal
-streets that lead to Neath.</p>
-
-<p>Neath itself is not an attractive town.
-Its abbey to Leland “semid the fairest
-abbay in al Wales.” To-day it is perhaps
-the most pathetic. During its last and most
-splendid days a Welsh bard sang of it and
-of the monks who lived in it; sang of its
-towers and cloisters, and coloured windows<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span>
-and princely shields; of its columns of blue
-marble and of the painted archangels on
-its roof. It was just at this time that it
-seemed to Leland so fair, that is to say
-just before Leland’s employer, Henry VIII.,
-silenced the “peaceful songs of praise” of
-its white monks for ever. Even now we
-can guess at its past splendour, for though
-the blue marble and the archangels are
-gone, the crypt still has its vaulted roof,
-and through the heavy ivy there are fragments
-visible of the gleaming white stone
-with which it was once faced. It stands,
-unspeakably desolate, on the low, squalid
-outskirts of the town, amid a waste of
-scrap-iron and nettles and rubbish; but
-when Edward II. came to beg for a night’s
-lodging under its roof, when Neath was
-little more than a village and a castle, and
-there were no shunting, shrieking trains
-between the abbey and the hills, this must
-indeed have seemed a beautiful refuge for
-a tired, hunted king.</p>
-
-<p>For close behind the abbey the hills begin
-to rise, and through them the river Neath
-cleaves its way to the sea in a valley that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span>
-will lead us, if we follow it, to extremely
-desirable things. Ultimately the road will
-lead us to Brecon, by no means to be
-despised in itself, but it is rather for the
-sake of the miles of moorland that lie
-between that we must here strike up into
-the hills in a way that may seem eccentric
-till we know what they are like.</p>
-
-<p>The Vale of Neath itself is famous for its
-lovely scenery, its woods and mountains and
-river. The road is practically level as far
-as Glyn-Neath, where, if the day is young,
-and the mood enterprising, we may, instead
-of keeping to our rightful road, diverge
-for a mile or so to Pont Neath Fechan.
-Thence the active-minded and able-bodied
-may visit a series of very pretty waterfalls
-on the river Mellte. This entails a
-considerable walk of a rough kind, but it
-also gives one an excuse for exploring a
-little more of this lovely moorland country:
-for the best way to approach the falls is to
-drive up for two miles into the hills and
-so reach the river from above.</p>
-
-<p>But probably the most usual course is,
-at Glyn-Neath, to turn towards Hirwain.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span>
-It is after this point that the really distinctive
-features of this run become apparent,
-the features that make the road
-essentially one for motorists; for no railway
-crosses these hills, and if there be strong-limbed
-bicyclists who do, they cannot often
-be women, I think. For the road that
-seems to the engine of a car to be merely
-gently undulating, is really climbing steadily
-upwards for miles. Gradually the scene
-becomes wilder and wilder, more and more
-desolate, till at last we are spinning over
-a moor as wide as the eye can see, on a
-road that winds visibly before us far away
-into the distance. Range beyond range,
-the hills completely encircle us: stern, bare
-hills with rugged outlines, and never a
-tree to soften them; and in the foreground
-great sweeping curves covered with short
-grass and here and there a glowing patch
-of heather. Then, when the summit is
-reached, and Cardiff waterworks are passed,
-begins the descent of nine miles on a
-perfect surface, close under the shoulder
-of the Brecon Beacons. I think this gentle
-descent is one of the most perfect runs,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span>
-from a motoring point of view, that I have
-ever enjoyed; and if, as is likely, there is a
-touch of evening softness over the great
-hills, few people will regret having forsaken
-their direct westward road for the sake
-of this drive. Close under the Beacons
-lies Brecon.</p>
-
-<p>A prodigious amount of fighting has
-raged round this peaceful-looking little
-town. It was not without bloodshed that
-Brychan the Irishman, in the fifth century,
-made this country his own with complete
-thoroughness, supplying it not only with
-a new name but with a new population
-(for he is said to have had forty-nine
-children); and Brecon was one of the many
-places that were attacked and overcome by
-the army of Alfred’s warlike daughter
-Ethelfleda; and truly there was no lack
-of fighting in the days of the Normans, the
-Neuf-Marché, and the de Braose. It was
-Bernard de Neuf-Marché, or Newmarch,
-who built the castle, once “very large,
-strong, and wele mainteynid,” but now only
-a remnant, a bit of battlemented wall and
-a tower, which passed through many stormy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span>
-experiences before it came to the strangest
-end to which, surely, a castle was ever
-brought. For it was the inhabitants of
-Brecon themselves who, feeling that they
-had figured sufficiently in the annals
-of their country, demolished their own
-castle. It was during the Civil War, and
-a siege seemed imminent. The simplest
-way of avoiding this was to remove the
-castle.</p>
-
-<p>Brecon might well be tired of fighting.
-Newmarch had fortified it well, with walls
-and gates and the “keepe of the castel
-very large and faire,” but it required all
-its defences and more, for a border castle
-was never safe. From the family of Newmarch
-it passed to that of de Braose, and
-they lost it again, not by the sword but by
-the seditious spirit and shrewd tongue of a
-woman. Matilda de St. Valerie, the wife of
-William de Braose, “uttered reproachful
-language against King John,” which though
-perfectly just, was rash. She lost not only
-her castle, but her husband and finally her
-life, for Brecon became Crown property;
-de Braose, after slaughtering the King’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span>
-garrison, fled to Ireland; and Matilda was
-starved to death in prison.</p>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill40" src="images/ill40.jpg" width="600" height="381" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">BRECON.</p></div>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill41" src="images/ill41.jpg" width="600" height="460" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">GATEWAY KIDWELLY CASTLE.</p></div>
-
-<p>If we spend a night in Brecon we may
-sit in the pretty garden of the hotel
-under the shadow of the last remaining
-wall of Newmarch’s castle. Opposite us,
-filling almost the whole landscape, are the
-solemn Beacons; just below us is the Usk
-and its picturesque bridge.</p>
-
-<p>We must cross that bridge to reach Carmarthen;
-and following the course of the
-Usk, pass through Trecastle, where the
-scenery becomes strikingly beautiful as
-the road cleaves a narrow gorge and then
-runs gently down for miles between wooded
-hills. At Llandovery we enter the valley of
-the Towy.</p>
-
-<p>There is nothing to detain us at Llandovery;
-but as the gay flowers of the
-Castle Inn catch our eye in passing we
-may remember that George Borrow once
-spent a night there; and the remains of
-the castle hard by may perhaps call to
-mind the great chieftain Griffith ap Nicholas,
-who was lord of Dynevor and Kilgerran as
-well as of Llandovery and many another<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span>
-castle. He was also a Justice of the Peace,
-and a harbourer of thieves; a <i>protégé</i> of
-the House of Lancaster who yet died in
-fighting for the house of York at Mortimer’s
-Cross: not a very conventional
-person, in short.</p>
-
-<p>We leave the fragments of his castle on
-our left, and, on a practically level road,
-follow the slow-flowing Towy through Llangadoch
-to Llandeilo. This pretty little place,
-where there is a really nice inn, was once
-dignified with the name of Llandeilo Vawr,
-or the Great; probably because of its close
-proximity to the great castle of Dynevor.
-If we pause for a moment on the bridge
-that here crosses the Towy we shall see
-reflected in the river a thickly wooded bluff.
-Among these trees are the ruins of Dynevor,
-perhaps the most important stronghold of
-the princes of South Wales. It was in the
-ninth century that Roderic the Great built
-the first castle here, and from that day forward
-till Roderic’s fortress had for many
-years been replaced by a Norman one,
-Dynevor passed from hand to hand, from
-Welsh to English and from English to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span>
-Welsh, and from one turbulent chieftain to
-another. It seems to have been regarded
-more or less as the key to South Wales;
-for on one occasion Henry II. sent a special
-spy to inquire into the strength of Dynevor
-and the general character of the country.
-This artless knight asked his way of a Welsh
-dean, and was, as he might have expected,
-led by a route so wild, so rough, and so
-extremely circuitous that the castle seemed
-to be practically inaccessible. By way of
-heightening the effect this humorous divine
-paused at intervals to satisfy his hunger
-with handfuls of grass. It was the custom
-in that poor country, he said. The knight
-returned to Henry with the report that the
-country round Dynevor was “uninhabitable,
-vile, and inaccessible, only affording food to
-a beastly nation, living like brutes.”</p>
-
-<p>Within a few miles of Dynevor there is
-another castle that looks as if it might well
-have been inaccessible&mdash;Cerrig Cennen. It
-is worth while to drive a few miles out of
-our way to see this circlet of towers on its
-pale grey crag, dominating the whole landscape
-of rounded hills. It is best to approach<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span>
-it by Derwydd Station, partly because the
-more direct route leads over a long and
-precipitous hill, and partly because from
-this side one’s first view of the old fortress
-is more striking. I think there is little to
-be gained by trying to drive close to the
-actual ruins: the impressive effect is in the
-distant outline of this strange and sudden
-crag, on which, it is said, a Knight of
-the Round Table built his fortress before
-the Norman of later days made it his
-stronghold.</p>
-
-<p>From Llandeilo to Carmarthen we have
-a choice of roads. The upper one is perhaps
-slightly the faster of the two, but
-from the lower there is a better view of
-Dynevor, and Dryslwyn Castle, and Abergwili,
-the palace of the bishops of St.
-David’s. In Carmarthen itself there are
-few relics left of a history that begins in
-the days of the Romans and has been
-stormy to a most unusual degree; so
-stormy, indeed, that one marvels the place
-exists at all. The wicked Vortigern, King
-of Britain in the fifth century, is said to
-have built a castle here, to defend himself<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span>
-against a too persistent saint who was trying,
-quite in vain, to turn him from the
-many errors of his ways. He had first
-taken refuge at Rhayader, but, says Nennius
-the historian, “St. Germanus followed him
-with all the British clergy, and upon a rock
-prayed for his sins during 40 days and
-40 nights.” So the worried King fled
-here to Carmarthen and built a castle in
-which to hide. But, says the story, “the
-saint as usual followed him there and with
-his clergy fasted and prayed ... and on the
-third night a fire fell suddenly from heaven
-and totally burnt the castle.” How many
-times since then Carmarthen has been burnt
-to the ground and besieged and plundered
-I do not know, but one or other of these
-incidents is casually recorded on nearly every
-page of the History of Wales. But Carmarthen,
-like hope, “springs eternal.” Among
-the many who burnt it is Owen Glyndwr,
-who at the very time that the foolish legend
-describes him as sitting in a tree watching
-the Battle of Shrewsbury was really occupied,
-not only in destroying this town, but also, as
-though influenced by the reputed birthplace<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span>
-of Merlin, in having his fortune told by a
-soothsayer brought from Gower for the purpose.
-But though this brave fortune-teller
-prophesied evil things they were not fulfilled.
-Owen had still many successes before him,
-and his dealings with this ill-fated town of
-Carmarthen made a great sensation. There is
-an agitated letter still existing which the Archdeacon
-of Hereford, the “lowly creature,” as he
-signed himself, of Henry IV., wrote in “haste,
-great haste,” to implore that King for help.
-“And note,” he adds in a postscript, “on
-Friday last Kemerdyn town is taken and
-burnt, and the castle yielded ... and slain
-of the town of Kemerdyn more than L persons.
-Written in right haste on Sunday;
-and I cry your mercy and put me in your
-high grace that I write so shortly; for by
-my troth that I owe to you, it is needful.”
-The exciting effect of Owen’s presence, we
-see, was of somewhat wide radius. Yet even
-Owen could not suppress Carmarthen for
-more than a short time. Leland tells us of
-two “reparations done on the castel,” and
-in his day, he says, it was “veri fair and
-doble waullid.” Even now there is some of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span>
-it left, but unless we exceed the speed-limit
-and refuse to pay the fine we shall probably
-not see it, as it has been made into a
-prison.</p>
-
-<p>But even the modern streets that have
-risen from so many ashes are not without
-their own memories of the great. They
-were once lined with shouting, excited
-crowds, gathered from all the country
-round to see Nelson drive through the
-town: and through them passed the strange
-funeral procession of Richard Steele, who
-was carried by night, attended by twenty-five
-torch-bearers, to his grave in St. Peter’s
-Church. Above it a modern brass has been
-placed of late years, but for long the grave
-was, at his own dying request, left nameless.
-“I shall be remembered by posterity,” he
-said. There are other monuments worth
-seeing in St. Peter’s Church: the tomb of
-Sir Rhys ap Thomas, to whose efforts
-Henry VII. owed much in his quest for
-the crown; and a mural tablet of the seventeenth
-century, to “virtuous Anne, the lady
-Vaughan,” who was, we learn, “the choice
-elixir of mortalitie.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>From Carmarthen we must certainly not
-neglect to visit Kidweli, ten miles away
-near the sea, for there we shall find much
-of that visible romance that has, by storm
-and stress, been battered out of the county
-town. Kidweli once had walls, and three
-gates, and a priory of Black Monks, as well
-as the castle that still stands above the river
-Gwendraeth in all its imposing simplicity.
-The round towers and the curtain-wall and
-the great gateway have a very distinctly
-Edwardian character, but Caradoc of Llancarvan
-says there was a castle built here
-quite at the end of the twelfth century by
-Rhys ap Griffith, that great prince of South
-Wales who is known in Welsh history as
-The Lord Rhys; and even in those destructive
-days a hundred years was a short time
-for a castle to last. Probably Rhys built it
-and Edward repaired it, giving it the special
-character of his own work, but not entirely
-wiping out the work of Rhys. In this way
-we may account for the name of Gwenllian’s
-Tower, for Rhys had a much-loved daughter
-Gwenllian, “a woman of such incomparable
-beauty, and exceeding in all feminine quali<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span>fications,
-that she was accounted the fairest
-and best accomplished lady in all the country.”
-She had fine traditions behind her, but they
-were not so much “feminine” as warlike;
-for her father Rhys was “the protection of
-his country, the splendour of arms, the arm
-of power,” and her great uncle was the valiant
-Owen Gwynedd, and her grandmother was
-that gallant lady after whom she was doubtless
-named, Gwenllian the wife of Griffith.
-It was quite near Kidweli that this other
-Gwenllian died. In her husband’s absence
-she led his men to battle against the Norman
-invader, Maurice de Londres, whose grave
-we saw in his priory-church of Ewenny.
-Her forces were defeated, and she herself, by
-order of de Londres, was beheaded there
-and then. Her brother Owen Gwynedd, however,
-was still alive, and he saw to it that the
-reckoning was heavy.</p>
-
-<p>The road from Carmarthen to Tenby lies
-at first through rather dull country, but
-after a time passes between extremely
-pretty wooded hills. Presently we catch
-sight of the sea shining at the end of a
-deep valley, and after this a delightful run<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span>
-on a downward gradient carries us within
-sight of Tenby, the most charming of
-watering-places. Now, it is not altogether
-an artificial classification if we divide the
-civilised world into two parties: those who
-delight in watering-places and those who
-flee from them. For this taste or distaste
-is really, more or less, an indication of
-temperament, and at the end of half an
-hour one could usually guess correctly in
-which of the two classes to place a new
-acquaintance. But I really defy any one to
-dislike Tenby. There is something endearing
-about it. From the roadside the cliffs
-drop steeply to the sands below&mdash;very
-yellow sands sweeping in long curves to the
-edge of a brilliantly green sea, while beyond
-them the long headlands stretch one behind
-the other, mere blurs of purple or misty
-blue. On the right the remnant of the
-castle stands upon a rock, and below it
-there juts into the sea a picturesque little
-pier, entirely for use, and innocent of
-pavilion or bandstand. Here the innumerable
-trawlers take shelter, till in the early
-morning they unfurl their crimson or brown<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span>
-sails, and one by one glide out into the
-bay&mdash;a brave sight, and one that calls to
-mind the early name of this place, Dynbych-y-Pysgod,
-the Little Town of Fish.</p>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill42" src="images/ill42.jpg" width="600" height="383" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">GOSCAP ROCK, TENBY.</p></div>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill43" src="images/ill43.jpg" width="600" height="430" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">MANORBIER CASTLE, NEAR TENBY.</p></div>
-
-<p>There is something almost incongruous in
-the thought of the many sieges that this
-quiet, sunny town has suffered. From very
-early days it played an active part in the
-history of this strange English corner of
-Wales, and if its walls and gateways are
-still standing to add to its beauty, this is
-not for want of use, but because their uses
-were so constant that they were kept in
-good order. Of the castle, indeed, little
-enough remains: a ruined tower, an archway,
-and a fragment of wall are all that is
-left on the rock that juts out so picturesquely
-into the green sea.</p>
-
-<p>But if the shrewd blows of several centuries
-have left us little of Tenby Castle, it
-is far otherwise with the splendid walls and
-towers of Manorbier, which stand close above
-the sea a few miles further along the same
-coast. To see Manorbier at its best one
-should approach it from the road called the
-Ridgeway, and this route, too, has the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span>
-advantage of commanding, here and there,
-some very lovely views of the coast, of
-Lydstep and Caldey Island. It is well to
-know that on Sunday no strangers are
-admitted within the gate of Manorbier.</p>
-
-<p>It stands, as Leland says, betwixt two
-“hillettes, between the wich the Severn Se
-gulfith in”&mdash;a fine setting for its battlemented
-walls and towers, the “turrets and
-bulwarks” of which Giraldus proudly speaks.
-That most delightful chronicler declares this
-to be the pleasantest spot in Wales, and
-then half apologises for his enthusiasm over
-this “his native soil, his genial territory.”
-We may forgive him for his love of the
-place, even if we think he goes a little too
-far, for this Gerald de Berri the Norman,
-who oddly enough has been known to all
-who have come after him as Giraldus the
-Welshman, was born here at Manorbier;
-and down there on the shore are the sands
-where he played as a child, building, we are
-told, not castles, but always churches and
-abbeys.</p>
-
-<p>Strange enough this belligerent-looking
-building seems to have no history. It has,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span>
-apparently, led an entirely domestic life.
-We hear of mills and ponds, of parks and
-dovecots in connection with it, but of siege
-and bloodshed not a word. The great, grim
-walls and bastions, however, must have
-added greatly to the peace and comfort of
-the Norman barons who lived behind them,
-and they certainly add very much to our
-pleasure.</p>
-
-<p>Climbing again to the Ridgeway we turn
-to the left, with a view to seeing Lamphey,
-Pembroke, and the Stack Rocks before,
-following in the footsteps of many a
-pilgrim, we visit the shrine of St. David.</p>
-
-<p>Lamphey Palace was for several centuries
-one of the dwellings of the Bishop of St.
-David’s; and a good deal of it was built by
-Bishop Gower, whose “mason’s mark,” so to
-speak, is the arcaded parapet so conspicuous
-here and at his cathedral city. Bishop
-Gower seems to have been the benefactor
-of this see, as Bishop Barlow was its evil
-genius. It was owing to the latter that
-Lamphey passed to the Crown, and thence
-to the house of Devereux; and so it came
-to pass that in this sequestered corner<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span>
-Robert, Earl of Essex, passed the early years
-of a life that was destined to be anything
-but sheltered, and played his childish games
-with no thought of a capricious queen or
-of Tower Hill. And with him, no doubt,
-played his sister Penelope, whom the pen of
-Sir Philip Sidney has made more familiar to
-us as “Stella.”</p>
-
-<p>From Lamphey two miles of level road
-will take us to Pembroke, and to the castle
-that is perhaps the most impressive in all
-this land of relics, where the castles are so
-strangely thick upon the ground. The great
-walls rise upon a rock whose base is lapped
-by the waters of Milford Haven; in the
-centre stands the mighty double keep, and
-round it is a ring of bastions; on the town
-side is the entrance-gate, flanked by massive
-towers. There is something peculiarly imposing
-about this gateway, whose implacable
-strength seems all the more uncompromising
-from its being unsoftened by ivy and very
-little discoloured by time, though its fine
-effect is, of course, cruelly marred by the
-lawn-tennis nets that seem so often to be
-regarded as pleasing and appropriate addi<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span>tions
-to mediæval castles. Pembroke, unlike
-Manorbier, is full of history; there has been
-no lack of sieges here. Even before the
-building of this castle there were stirring
-doings round this rock: fierce attacks and
-wily stratagems, not unmixed, some say,
-with romance. There was a “slender fortress”
-here, built by Arnulph de Montgomery
-of stakes and turf&mdash;a poor defence
-one would have thought, but apparently
-sufficient to bear a good deal under the
-guardianship of that “worthy and discreet”
-constable, Gerald de Windsor, grandfather
-of our Giraldus. He showed his discretion
-on one occasion, when the stakes and turf
-were besieged by the Welsh, and his garrison
-was extremely short of food, by cutting
-up the last few beasts that remained to
-them, and throwing the pieces to the enemy.
-In our day this would be described, not as
-discretion, but as “bluff,” and it was as
-successful as that quality so often is. It is
-said by some that it was this same Gerald
-who built the existing castle, but there
-seems to be a good deal of uncertainty on
-the subject; and even more uncertainty as to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span>
-which castle it was from which Gerald’s
-wife Nest, who was less discreet, apparently,
-than her husband, was carried off by a
-Welsh prince, not without encouragement
-from the lady. But when one hears that
-the discreet Gerald escaped on this occasion
-by creeping down a drain-pipe, one feels
-that there was some excuse after all for
-Nest. But these are mere traditions. What
-is very certain is that one of the stern
-entrance-towers was the birthplace of
-Henry VII., who lived here with his mother
-through the early years of his life, and after
-his exile in Brittany landed only a few miles
-away at Dale, where he won the Welsh at
-once to his cause by unfurling the Red
-Dragon of Uther. When Leland was here
-he was shown the room in which Henry
-was born, and in it “a chymmeney new
-made with the armes and badges of King
-Henri the VII.”; but this fireplace must
-have vanished long ago, for even the local
-guide-books do not profess to know the
-room of Henry’s birth.</p>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill44" src="images/ill44.jpg" width="465" height="600" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">ENTRANCE TOWER, PEMBROKE CASTLE.</p></div>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill45" src="images/ill45.jpg" width="444" height="600" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">PEMBROKE COAST.</p></div>
-
-<p>There was a memorable siege of Pembroke
-in the Civil War&mdash;memorable not only<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span>
-because of its importance, but because the
-leaders of the Royalist garrison were renegade
-Roundheads. Cromwell’s guns were
-lying useless in the sand, for the ship that
-carried them had run aground; but undismayed
-he determined to starve the garrison
-out. “Here is a very desperate enemy,”
-he wrote to Fairfax, “who being put out of
-all hope of mercy, are resolved to endure
-to the uttermost extremity, being very
-many of them gentlemen of quality and
-thoroughly resolved.” They yielded at last,
-and “Drunken Colonel Payer,” as Carlyle
-calls the renegade, “full of brandy and
-Presbyterian texts of Scripture,” being
-indeed out of all hope of mercy, was shot
-at Covent Garden. Beyond hope of mercy,
-too, was the traitor who, by betraying the
-source of the castle’s water-supply to Cromwell,
-was the cause of the surrender.
-Cromwell, with characteristic promptitude,
-cut the drain-pipes and hanged his informant
-on the spot; and not many years ago
-some workmen found the broken pipes, and
-close beside them some human bones.</p>
-
-<p>About eight miles beyond Pembroke are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span>
-the Stack Rocks. The road is hilly and the
-gates across it are exasperatingly numerous;
-but these are but small discomforts, and
-the reward is very great. It is almost suddenly
-that one finds oneself on the very
-edge of the stupendous cliffs that form the
-southern coast of Pembrokeshire&mdash;an edge
-that is almost mathematically a right angle,
-so sheer is the drop, so level is the plateau
-above. This stern, impregnable coast has the
-impressiveness that extreme simplicity on a
-large scale always has: it has the directness
-of Early Norman architecture. There is not
-an unnecessary line, so to speak, not the
-least attempt at ornament; and the effect
-is to take away one’s breath. A few yards
-from the cliff are the great pillars known as
-the Stack Rocks, obviously separated from
-the mainland by the patient efforts of the
-sea and air&mdash;examples of the survival of the
-fittest. Their tall, gaunt outlines, and the
-sea-gulls that circle round them, add much
-to this strange scene; but our real reward
-for opening all those gates lies, not in the
-actual Stack Rocks themselves, but in the
-long curves of the coast-line, the massive<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span>
-cliffs, the green, transparent sea that swirls
-about their base.</p>
-
-<p>It is necessary to pass through Pembroke
-on the return journey, but we must leave it
-by the Carmarthen road, since to reach
-Haverfordwest we have to avoid all the
-long ramifications of Milford Haven. Soon
-we turn sharply to the left and enter the
-tiny village of Carew, where, close beside
-the roadway, stands one of the finest Celtic
-crosses in Wales, richly carved with one of
-those interlaced designs that the Welsh in
-very early days copied from the Irish. And
-not very far away is another of those
-splendid castles that were, to a Norman
-baron in Wales, among the bare necessities
-of life&mdash;the half Norman, half Tudor castle
-of Carew, or Caer-wy (the Fort on the
-Water), whence the pronunciation <i>Carey</i>.
-The east front, the entrance-gate and bastions
-are, I believe, the work of Gerard de
-Windsor, constable of Pembroke, and are
-plainly Edwardian in character; but the
-north front, with its famous mullioned
-windows, was added by Sir Rhys ap Thomas,
-the energetic supporter of Henry VII., whose<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span>
-tomb we saw at Carmarthen; while the
-eastern side, with the great banqueting-hall
-and the lovely arch that leads to it, was
-contributed by Sir John Perrot, of Elizabethan
-days. This Sir John Perrot was one
-of the worst of the Irish Lords Deputy, but
-it was not on this account, very certainly,
-that he was suddenly called away from his
-building operations at Carew and bestowed
-in the Tower of London. The builders,
-delivered from his vigilant eye, did their
-work so perfunctorily that it is now in a
-more dilapidated condition than the sturdy
-defences of the Norman part of the castle.<a name="FNanchor_12" id="FNanchor_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a>
-But perhaps the old splendour of Carew is
-represented and recalled best of all by the
-beautiful rooms on the northern side, whose
-thresholds have been trodden by so many
-mailed feet, so many dainty silken shoes;
-for the hospitalities of Carew, at all events
-in the days of Sir Rhys ap Thomas, were
-carried out on a large scale. Henry of
-Richmond, not yet Henry of England, was
-entertained here on his way to Bosworth,
-and mounted the stairs to the room that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span>
-displays his arms upon a shield, only a
-little time before he mounted the steps of
-the throne. This last event was celebrated
-here in a magnificent pageant, a medley
-of feasts and tournaments and sermons, at
-which a thousand guests filled these weed-grown
-rooms with all the glitter and colour
-of an age that loved fine clothes. Sir Rhys
-himself figured on the occasion in “a fine
-gilt armour,” and was attended by “two
-hundred tall men in blewe coats.” The
-banqueting-hall on the east side was not
-then in existence, but there was nevertheless
-“a goodlie spaciouse roome richlie
-hanged with clothe of arras and tapestrie”
-in which “the bettermost sort” were entertained,
-a cross table being laid at one end
-for the King who was so many miles away.
-And yet, in spite of these rash distinctions
-among the guests, we are assured by the
-chronicler that “one thing is noteworthy,
-that for the space of five dayes among a
-thousand people there was not one quarrell,
-crosse word, or unkind looke that happened
-betweene them.” It seems almost unnecessary
-that the bishop, before they parted,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span>
-should have “bestowed a sermon upon
-them.”</p>
-
-<p>Fifteen miles of a hilly road lie between
-Carew and Haverfordwest, a town that was
-important enough in Edward IV.’s day to
-be made a separate county. It was the
-chief town and stronghold of the Flemish
-colony, and the dominating position of the
-castle bears witness to its former usefulness;
-while its present mission as a gaol
-does nothing to detract from its grim
-appearance.</p>
-
-<p>It was outside the embattled walls of
-Haverfordwest that Glyndwr first met his
-French allies, who had landed in Milford
-Haven from their hundred and forty ships.
-There were four or five thousand of them,
-very gay in their apparel, very rich in their
-accoutrements, and here before the hill of
-Haverfordwest they must have been an
-encouraging sight for a man whose luck
-was beginning to turn. But this stern castle
-withstood them, none the less, and though
-they burnt the town, they were obliged to
-retire. In the Civil War the Royalist garrison
-adopted a simple plan for saving<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span>
-themselves from the discomforts of a siege.
-Hearing that the enemy was approaching,
-it seemed to them that the best way to
-avoid unpleasantness would be to leave the
-place vacant, which they did with all possible
-despatch.</p>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill46" src="images/ill46.jpg" width="600" height="382" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">CAREW CASTLE.</p></div>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill47" src="images/ill47.jpg" width="600" height="420" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">ST. DAVID’S CATHEDRAL AND RUINS OF THE BISHOP’S PALACE.</p></div>
-
-<p>There are a good many things that we may
-think of in this town: those “people brave
-and robust,” as Giraldus calls the Flemings
-whom Henry I. established here; poor
-Richard II., who gave them their charter;
-Edward IV., who gave them a high sheriff;
-the sieges of centuries; the gay French
-army; but I, when I climb the steep streets
-of Haverfordwest, long most of all to
-know the spot on which the Crusades were
-preached to “a people well versed in commerce
-and woollen manufactories.” “It
-appeared wonderful and miraculous,” says
-the historian, with no consciousness that he
-is saying anything humorous, “that although
-the archdeacon addressed them both in the
-Latin and French tongues, those persons
-who understood neither of those languages
-were equally affected, and flocked in great
-numbers to the cross.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>In the days when people journeyed to St.
-David’s for the good of their souls it was considered
-that two pilgrimages to that shrine
-secured as many spiritual advantages as one
-pilgrimage to Rome. It seems hard that
-those who now approach St. David’s by
-train should not derive some solid benefit of
-this kind, for the penance must really be
-very great, since Haverfordwest is the
-nearest station, and the road between the
-two places is known as “sixteen miles and
-seventeen hills.” One passes these sad
-pilgrims, packed very closely in hired
-wagonettes behind still sadder horses, and
-one hopes that good may accrue to their
-souls, since surely this must be very bad for
-their bodies. Even bicyclists, our brethren
-of the road, must find these seventeen hills
-no easy task. The pilgrimage to St. David’s
-is pre-eminently one for motorists.</p>
-
-<p>The surface, on the whole, is good, and
-near the coast the scenery is fine. As the
-sea comes into sight on our left the rather
-dull, flat landscape to the right is enlivened
-by the curiously sudden crag on which stand
-the remains of Roche Castle, the birthplace<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span>
-of Lucy Walters, the Duke of Monmouth’s
-mother. After a time the road dips suddenly
-to the shore at Newgale, where the
-sands stretch for two miles between low
-headlands, and where long ago the sea once
-receded and showed the blackened stumps
-of a huge submerged forest. Between this
-and St. David’s are “divers other little
-creekittes,” says Leland, who has a passion
-for diminutives of an original kind; and of
-them all none is so charming as little Solva
-where the narrow creek runs up far into
-the land, and a picturesque village climbs
-the hill, and the “fischerbotes” take refuge
-now as they did in the sixteenth century,
-and probably long before it.</p>
-
-<p>A few minutes later appear the outskirts
-of the strangely squalid village that is the
-cathedral city of St. David’s. The straggling,
-ugly street gives little promise of reward
-for our pilgrimage. Then suddenly we are
-at the edge of a hill, and we look down into
-the little dell that holds, perhaps, as much
-beauty and history and legend as any spot
-of its size in our country: the cathedral
-itself, very plain and built of a strange<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span>
-purple stone; close beside it the ruins of
-St. Mary’s College, founded by John of
-Gaunt and his wife; and beyond it the far
-greater ruins of Bishop Gower’s very beautiful
-palace, with its great rose-window and
-the arcaded parapet that characterises the
-bishop’s buildings. And to the seeing eye
-this little hollow contains far more than
-these mere stones: it is filled with countless
-memories of saints, and those who were
-anything but saints; it is crossed by a long
-procession of pilgrims; William I., who came
-to worship before St. David’s shrine and in
-some sort apologise, as it were, for conquering
-the country&mdash;an apology that was
-rather premature; Edward I. and his faithful
-Eleanor, on the same errand, with more
-reason; William Rufus, with little interest
-in saints or shrines; Henry II., “habited like
-a pilgrim, and leaning on a staff,” and met
-at the gate by a long and solemn procession.
-Of all these, Edward was the only one
-who worshipped in this very building, for it
-is the fourth that has stood on this spot
-and was raised just after Henry II.’s visit.
-Much restoration has given it the look of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span>
-a new building, as seen from the outside.
-Perhaps this is why, as one passes through
-the doorway, one is inclined to hold one’s
-breath from sheer surprise; for St. David’s
-Cathedral is “all glorious within,” and there
-is nothing outside to prepare one for the
-Norman arches with their varied and rich
-ornament, for the splendour of the fifteenth-century
-roof, and of the rood-screen that
-Gower built and is buried in. For nearly
-two hundred years the nave was covered
-with whitewash, and indeed it has narrowly
-escaped worse things at the hands of evil
-men, for Bishop Barlow, of whom we heard
-at Lamphey, and heard nothing good, was
-minded to strip the roof of its lead, and
-was only stopped in this enterprise by
-Henry VIII. It was this same bishop who
-stripped the roof of Gower’s palace and so
-led to its decay; and being, it seems, a
-veritable <i>esprit fort</i>, he not only was the
-first Protestant bishop who took advantage
-of the permission to marry, but he also took
-advantage of the dissolution of nunneries
-and married an abbess. Their five daughters,
-it is said, all married bishops. Barlow posi<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span>tively
-hated St. David’s. Why, he asked,
-should money be spent on these ruinous
-buildings “to nourish clattering conventicles
-of barbarous rural persons”? Why not move
-the see to Carmarthen, since St. David’s was
-“in such a desolate angle, and in so rare a
-frequented place, except of vagabond pilgrims”?
-The Saint himself was merely “an
-antique gargle of idolatry.” In short, the lead
-of the roof was the only valuable thing here.</p>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill48" src="images/ill48.jpg" width="453" height="600" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">ST. MARY’S COLLEGE, ST. DAVID’S.</p></div>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill49" src="images/ill49.jpg" width="446" height="600" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">ST. DAVID’S CATHEDRAL, INTERIOR.</p></div>
-
-<p>Now Henry VIII., as we well know, had
-little enough respect for the shrines of the
-saints or for the beauties of architecture,
-but he had a great respect for the bones of
-his own grandfather&mdash;and these lay here.
-So Barlow had to hold his hand; and we, as
-we stand in the presbytery of the cathedral
-beside Edmund Tudor’s tomb, must remember
-all we owe to it. Nor is his the only notable
-tomb in this place; for here is the simple
-shrine before which so many kings, such
-countless pilgrims, have knelt, and there is
-the recumbent figure that some say is the
-Lord Rhys, the son of the brave Gwenllian,
-the greatest of the princes of South Wales,
-of whom it was said that “his prowesse<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span>
-passed his manners, his wytte passed his
-prowesse, his fayre speeche passed his wytte,
-his good thewes passed his fayre speeche.”
-Of the grave of Giraldus we must not be
-too sure, for though it is pointed out to us
-there has been much discussion with regard
-to it. Yet somewhere in this cathedral his
-dust lies we know.</p>
-
-<p>Just beyond St. David’s is the sea. And
-here too we must go, and, if possible, see
-the sun setting behind that western horizon
-where the hills of Holy Ireland are said to
-be sometimes visible. St. Patrick saw them,
-says the legend, as he sat on this shore,
-and vowed to give his life to the conversion
-of that land. He kept his vow; but William
-Rufus, who stood here with very different
-intentions, was less successful. As he looked
-across the sea to Ireland, he said, “I will
-summon hither all the ships of my realm,
-and with them make a bridge to attack that
-country.” His words were reported to Murchard,
-Prince of Leinster, who, says the
-story, paused awhile, and answered, “Did
-the King add to this mighty threat, If God
-please?” and being informed that he had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span>
-made no mention of God in his speech, he
-replied, “I fear not his coming.”</p>
-
-<p>The legend that connects St. Patrick with
-this shore is extremely circumstantial, but
-whether it has the least foundation in truth
-I do not know. In the Rosy Valley, says
-the story, he built a college, where he taught
-both boys and girls, and trained missionaries
-who afterwards became Irish saints. One of
-the girls was Nôn, the mother of St. David,
-and it was near Porth Clais that that saint
-was born. And when he was old enough
-the boy too became a pupil of St. Patrick;
-and so, when his college days at Llantwit
-were over, and he was made “Archbishop
-of Legions,” because “his life was a perfect
-example of that goodness which by his
-doctrine he taught,” he moved the see
-from Caerleon to Menevia for love of his
-master St. Patrick. In this way was fulfilled
-the prophesy of Merlin: “Menevia shall put on
-the pall of the City of Legions”; and from that
-time forward Menevia has been called after
-its first and most famous bishop, St. David.</p>
-
-<p>From this strange, remote land of dreams
-and legends and memories of early saints the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span>
-transition to the world of modern progress
-is rather sudden; for only fifteen miles lie
-between the shrine of St. David and the new
-turbine steamers of Fishguard. We shall
-do well to choose the upper road, which
-runs for the most part through a bare, inhospitable
-land that is far more suggestive
-of the remoteness of the village-city than
-the most dramatic mountain pass could be.
-Here and there we have a fine glimpse of
-the coast, and there is a sudden softening
-in the scenery as we draw near Goodwick.
-Here, at one side of the pretty bay of Fishguard,
-are all the evidences of the new route
-to Ireland&mdash;the station, the hotel, and the
-steamers at the quay, while across the bay,
-beyond the long beach, the upper town of
-Fishguard appears above the headland. Here,
-at Fishguard, the French landed in 1797.
-Then, as they looked at those heights above
-the town, their hearts misgave them, for the
-hills were ominously streaked and patched
-with scarlet. It became plain to them that
-a very large force&mdash;a far larger force than
-they were prepared to meet&mdash;was waiting to
-descend upon them. And so it happened<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span>
-that their general, without loss of time, repaired
-to the Royal Oak Inn, where he
-signed his capitulation to Lord Cawdor. I
-do not know when, if ever, he found out
-that the masses of scarlet figures on the
-hills were not soldiers, but the enterprising
-matrons and maids of all the county round,
-who had come out in the red cloaks that
-were then part of the national dress, to see
-what was going forward.</p>
-
-<p>The lower town of Fishguard lies in a
-cleft between two steep hills, and its pretty
-little harbour has all the picturesqueness
-that quays and boats and rippling green
-water can give. The further hill of the two,
-which we must climb, is of a most amazing
-gradient&mdash;computed in contour-books as
-averaging 1 in 7, but certainly 1 in 5 in
-places. From the high ground to which it leads
-us, lying between Fishguard and Newport,
-there are glimpses from time to time of fine
-coast scenery, and beyond Newport the road
-lies through very pretty country, under the
-conspicuous peak of Carningly. In the churchyard
-at Nevern there is a beautiful Celtic
-cross, the cross of St. Brynach, an Irish con<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span>temporary
-of St. David. From this point the
-road gradually rises to a considerable height,
-and then runs down a long hill to Cardigan.</p>
-
-<p>Cardigan, once “the lock and key of all
-Wales,” gives us no hint of its former greatness.
-It appears an uninteresting little town
-till one realises that it is the Aberteifi whose
-castle was taken and retaken, burnt, and
-shattered, and built again, through all the
-stormiest years of Welsh history; captured
-by the men of the north from the men
-of the south; defended by both against
-the Anglo-Normans; attacked by the Flemings;
-at one time the court of Llewelyn,
-the greatest of the northern princes; and
-at another the court of Lord Rhys, the
-greatest of the southern princes. Here lived
-Griffith, the father of Rhys, “the light and
-the strength and the gentleness of the men
-of the south,” whose brave wife, Gwenllian,
-was killed by Maurice de Londres; and here
-he and Gwenllian’s brother, the great Owen
-Gwynedd, avenged her, when Cardigan bridge
-broke under the retreating Normans, and
-“the salt green wave of Teivy was clogged”
-with the bodies of the slain. And here the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span>
-Lord Rhys held his famous revels, which included
-one of those mediæval Tournaments
-of Song with which Wagner has made us so
-familiar. The invitations were sent out in
-good time&mdash;a year and a day before the
-event&mdash;and many hundreds of English and
-Normans were bidden from “all Britain,
-Ireland, and the islands adjacent.” The historian
-goes on to tell us how “Rhys caused
-all the bards or poets throughout all Wales
-to come thither; and for a better diversion
-to the company he provided chairs to be set
-in the hall, in which the bards being seated,
-they were to answer each other in rhyme,
-and those that acquitted themselves most
-handsomely and overcame the rest, were
-promised great rewards and rich presents.”
-And the men of Gwynedd won the prize
-for poetry, but the men of the south were
-victorious in music.</p>
-
-<p>Such in the old days was Cardigan, where
-the tourist may pause for a mid-day chop
-or buy a picture postcard.</p>
-
-<p>Two miles above Cardigan, on a crag beside
-the Teify, are the ruined towers of Cilgerran,
-which have been very little concerned with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span>
-history, though they have stood here since
-the days of Henry I. Their striking position
-above the wooded banks of the river, however,
-will repay us for a detour of a mile
-or two, and we can rejoin the main road
-at the beautiful bridge of Llechryd. Here,
-where the prevailing note of the landscape
-is peace, the gentle Teify, whose purling
-waters have so often run red, was once
-actually dammed&mdash;as on another occasion at
-Cardigan&mdash;by the bodies of the slain, when
-the princes of the south met the invading
-princes of Powys and overthrew them.</p>
-
-<p>From Llechryd we follow the Teify past
-Newcastle Emlyn; and thence, if we like, we
-may cross the moors to Lampeter; or, better
-still, we may go straight on through the
-Henllan woods to Llandyssil, a lovely little
-place where fishermen delight to dwell, and
-where in consequence there is a really charming
-little hotel. And if, as may well happen,
-there is no room for us there, we can after
-all go on our way to Lampeter, for there also
-there is quite a nice hotel, though of course it
-lacks the charm of the country garden and the
-rushing Teify. The moorland road between<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span>
-Llandyssil and Lampeter is in its way unique,
-for on both sides of it the hills are covered
-with a thick, short growth of gorse, a carpet
-of gold spread almost smoothly for miles.</p>
-
-<p>At Lampeter there is nothing to detain
-us but the important business of consulting
-maps. For here is the parting of the ways.
-If our object is merely to reach the English
-border, our best way perhaps is to aim at
-Builth. To do this we must strike across
-the hills through lovely scenery; past Pumpsaint,
-where George Borrow awoke to hear
-the murmuring of the Cothi; through Llandovery,
-where we have been before on the
-way to Carmarthen; and thence over a really
-fine pass to Llanwrtyd Wells. If, on the
-other hand, we are aiming at North Wales
-our obvious course is to strike across to
-Aberaeron, and thence follow the coast to
-Aberystwith and Barmouth. And if&mdash;and
-this is the course I strongly recommend&mdash;we
-intend to complete the circle, and end
-our little tour by running down the Wye
-Valley, then too we should make for Aberystwith,
-and, turning thence eastward, join the
-infant Wye on the slopes of Plynlimmon.</p>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill50" src="images/ill50.jpg" width="600" height="458" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">KILGERRAN CASTLE, NEAR CARDIGAN.</p></div>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill51" src="images/ill51.jpg" width="422" height="600" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">THE WYE NEAR ITS SOURCE.</p></div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a><br /><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a><br /><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span></p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-<h2><a name="THE_VALLEY_OF_THE_WYE" id="THE_VALLEY_OF_THE_WYE">THE VALLEY OF THE WYE</a></h2>
-
-<p>Those who have stout hearts and stout
-boots may, I believe, discover the actual
-source of the Wye among the rushes of
-Plynlimmon. Five miles of hard walking
-over rather dull downs will procure them
-the satisfaction of seeing the first gleams of
-the thin silver thread that is destined to
-grow into the most beautiful river of England.
-Most of us, however, will be content
-to meet the Wye for the first time when it
-is five miles old, so to speak, at the point
-where it touches the high-road from Aberystwith
-to Newtown. Even here it is a tiny
-stream, rushing lightheartedly down the hill
-over the rocks, unsobered as yet by the
-dignified reflections of Hereford and Tintern
-and Chepstow Castle.</p>
-
-<p>These slopes of Plynlimmon are not particularly
-inspiring, except when regarded as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span>
-the cradle of the Wye, and of that greater
-river whose tributary she is, the Severn.
-It is true that the standard of Wales, with
-its red dragon, once floated victoriously on
-the side of this hill, and the short grass has
-been dyed with the blood of the Flemings,
-who mustered here to chastise that stout
-rebel, Owen Glyndwr, and were thoroughly
-chastised by him instead. But in themselves
-the heights of Plynlimmon are a little uninteresting.
-Short grass and rushes are all
-that grow upon them, and though their
-rounded outlines have a dignity of their
-own, the lack of colour makes them rather
-desolate. It is not till the Wye has passed
-Llangurig that it begins to earn its fame.</p>
-
-<p>Curiously enough, the Wye’s fame seems
-to depend mainly on its lower reaches.
-Nine people out of ten regard it as rising, so
-to speak, in Hereford; the Upper Wye is
-unknown to them and considered of no
-account. Yet to those who know it the
-Upper Wye, with its rugged hills and its
-wealth of colours, has a stronger charm even
-than the wooded loveliness of Symond’s Yat
-or of Tintern.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>At Llangurig&mdash;which is a wind-swept village
-with a nice little inn and a reputation for
-good fishing&mdash;the river and the road that
-follows it turn sharply to the right, and begin
-to descend by a very gentle gradient towards
-Rhayader. The landscape changes gradually.
-The hills lose their bleak desolation only to
-become cultivated and commonplace: then
-the fields yield to moorlands and the rounded
-curves to bold and jagged rocks; and at last,
-near the spot where the river Marteg adds
-its waters to the Wye and the railway joins
-the road, the great hills rise on each side
-so precipitously that the way lies almost
-through a defile. The hilltops are bare and
-grey, but by the banks of the river is a belt
-of trees; and as the valley widens the slopes
-are no longer bare but are glorious in purple
-and gold, in heather and gorse. And where
-the flaming sides of the Elan Valley converge
-with the valley of the Wye stands the tiny
-town of Rhayader.</p>
-
-<p>This is, I think, the gem of the Wye. It
-is well, therefore, if possible, to stay here for
-a day or two; and fortunately there is a nice
-little hotel to stay in. There are hills near<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span>
-and far, and on every hill are all the colours
-of the rainbow, and with the passing of every
-cloud the colours move and change. Close
-at hand are slopes of bracken topped by
-rugged crags; far away the hills of the Elan
-Valley are blue and amethyst. The river
-rushes through the town, giving to it its
-name of Rhayader Gwy, the Falls of the Wye,
-though the falls are not what they once
-were, I believe, before the bridge was built.
-Of course there is a castle-mound, for no
-Welsh town of a respectable age is complete
-without one. The castle itself has disappeared.
-The days of its life, indeed, appear
-to have been few and evil. It was built by
-“the Lord Rhys,” the mightiest of all the
-princes of the south, but so strenuous was
-the life of his day that he was obliged to
-rebuild it a few years later. Afterwards he
-was for a short time imprisoned by his own
-sons, and it was while he was in this undignified
-position that his castle of Rhayader
-was seized by his enemies. But these dim
-memories have lately been eclipsed. Those
-who visit Rhayader to-day think little of the
-valorous and potent prince of ancient Wales;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span>
-they think almost exclusively of the Birmingham
-Waterworks. We may forgive them for
-this, for the Birmingham Waterworks are
-more romantic than one would expect&mdash;romantic
-not merely as all great engineering
-works must be, with the romance of enterprise
-and achievement, but also romantically
-beautiful. One may drive for miles beside
-the lakes that wind into the heart of the
-mountains, and would have so natural an
-air if it were not for their mighty dams of
-Caban, and Pen-y-Garreg, and Craig Goch.
-It is a drive worth taking, for the road is
-good, the mountains tower above it with
-real grandeur, and the waters have pathos
-as well as beauty. The legend of buried
-houses and churches is common to many
-lakes; but in the case of the lakes of Cwm
-Elan it is no legend, but a fact, that their
-waters flow over the ground where generations
-of men have lived and worked, have
-ploughed their fields and said their prayers.
-The affairs of most of them are forgotten
-as completely as their houses are buried,
-but there is one memory here that no waters
-can hide&mdash;whether of Cwm Elan or of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span>
-chilly Serpentine or of the blue Mediterranean&mdash;the
-memory of Percy and Harriet Shelley.
-They lived here once, young and happy, and
-would have thought it a wild prophecy indeed
-if it had been foretold to them that not
-only they themselves, but even their quiet
-homestead among the green fields, would be
-destroyed by water.</p>
-
-<p>From Rhayader to Newbridge the road
-still closely follows the river, which, as we
-watch it mile by mile, gradually becomes
-wider and calmer. For the first few miles
-the banks are wild enough, and very beautiful;
-then suddenly the river is hidden from
-us by the deep shades and countless stems
-of Doldowlod Woods, where James Watt
-once lived; and by the time we dart out
-into the sunlight again we are nearing Newbridge.
-On this road there is nothing to
-limit our speed except the law, for from end
-to end of the Wye the surface is good, and
-there are no hills that deserve the name.
-At Newbridge we leave the river for a few
-miles, but join it again near Builth, and
-cross it to enter that town.</p>
-
-<p>Builth is unattractive. It professes to be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span>
-a Spa, but I never heard of any one who
-drank the waters; and it is hardly likely to
-become popular, since all the charms of
-Llanwrtyd Wells are but thirteen miles away
-on the one side, and all the fashion of Llandrindod
-only seven miles away on the other.
-Llanwrtyd is a delightful little place, with
-a good hotel and lovely surroundings, unspoilt
-as yet by popularity; while Llandrindod, as
-every one knows, is beloved by so many that
-it is no longer very lovable. Builth has little
-to offer in rivalry of these, and indeed makes
-small show of hospitality, maintaining in this
-matter the character it earned long ago,
-when it refused to admit its fugitive prince,
-the last Llewelyn. It is only a little way
-from here to the dell whither he struggled
-through the snow from this his treacherous
-town, only to find fresh treachery, and to
-die through its means. His dust lies, they
-say, at the spot called Cefn-y-Bedd, or the
-Bank of the Grave; and here in quite recent
-times a monument of stone has been set up.
-It stands close to the wayside on the road
-from Builth to Llanwrtyd.</p>
-
-<p>This, however, is not our road, which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span>
-follows the Wye very closely for a time;
-through Erwood, where from the top of a
-slight rise we have a wide and beautiful
-view; past Llyswen and the “Three Cocks,”
-one of the most famous of fishing inns, and
-through Glasbury to Hay. We are now in
-a broad and fertile valley; the hills are
-wooded; the river is growing slow and
-stately in its demeanour. The whole aspect
-of the country has changed, for at Hay we
-shall leave all the wildness of Wales behind
-us, and shall enter the quiet, homely county
-of Hereford.</p>
-
-<p>“I cam <i>in crepusculo</i> to the Hay,” says
-Leland, and he chose his time wisely.</p>
-
-<p>Hay, or La Haie, as it was originally called,
-was once the meeting-ground of all those
-turbulent mediæval passions that flourished
-so exceedingly on the border. For this
-reason it is full of ghosts. From this, the
-Welsh side, it has rather an undistinguished
-air, but when first seen by twilight from the
-English side, with the Black Mountains
-lowering behind it, and the remains of its
-grim castle dominating it, little Hay seizes
-the imagination. For those who approach<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span>
-it thus <i>in crepusculo</i>, like Leland, the past
-for ever lives in its commonplace streets
-more insistently than the present; lives above
-all in its castle&mdash;“the which sumetime hath
-bene right stately”&mdash;the castle with the long,
-picturesque flight of steps, and the longer
-and still more picturesque history. Through
-that great doorway many feet have passed
-that never came out, for those that entered
-the castle of Hay did it at their peril. The
-greater part of the building as it now stands
-is of Tudor date, but the entrance has by
-some means survived since King John’s time,
-and this in spite of difficulties: for the place
-was plundered during the Border Wars,
-destroyed by the Welsh themselves in self-defence,
-rebuilt by Henry III., captured by
-Llewelyn, retaken by Prince Edward, captured
-once more by Llewelyn’s grandson, and
-finally suffered the general fate of Welsh
-castles. “Now being almost totally decay’d,”
-says Camden, “it complains of the outrages
-of that profligate Rebel, Owen Glyn Dowrdwy,
-who in his March through these Countries
-consumed it with fire.”</p>
-
-<p>This last disaster may account for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span>
-entirely modern appearance of the houses;
-but there is nothing, no slate roof, no shop-window
-full of cheap blouses, that can make
-one forget the haunting presence of those
-that walk unseen in Hay&mdash;the undying ghosts
-of a hundred battles, murders, and sudden
-deaths.</p>
-
-<p>Soon after leaving Hay we pass the
-remains of Clifford Castle. Here was born
-Jane de Clifford, destined to be so fair that
-men would call her the Rose of the World;
-and here no doubt she played her childish
-games on the banks of the Wye, with no
-disturbing visions of that harder game which
-she was to play later on and finally to lose.
-The story of the avenging poison-cup is
-untrue, we are told: it was in the nunnery
-of Godstow that Fair Rosamund died, and
-was buried beneath the cruellest epitaph,
-surely, that was ever graven on a tomb.</p>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill52" src="images/ill52.jpg" width="425" height="600" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">CONFLUENCE OF THE WYE AND THE MARTEG NEAR RHAYADER.</p></div>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill53" src="images/ill53.jpg" width="600" height="378" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">HEREFORD.</p></div>
-
-<p>Two miles beyond Clifford is the toll-bridge
-of Whitney, and this we cross with a pretty
-view of the river on each side of us. Our
-way lies through Letton, past the turn to
-Monnington&mdash;which claims to be the burial-place
-of Owen Glyndwr&mdash;and through Bridge<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span>
-Sollars to Hereford. The landscape all the
-way is characteristic of the country: a scene
-of quiet fields and gentle river, of thatched
-cottages and gay gardens. It is not exciting,
-but it is extremely pleasant. Characteristic
-as it is, however, it does not represent
-Herefordshire at its best. The hills above
-Ledbury, the hop-gardens round Leominster,
-the woods and the wide views near Richard’s
-Castle, are all more distinctive and more
-beautiful than this part of the Wye Valley.
-Indeed, if we were not at this moment
-pledged to follow the Wye we should do
-well to drive from Hay to Hereford by way
-of the Golden Valley, though the journey
-is considerably longer and the road by no
-means so good. This valley was originally
-named by the British, from the river that
-runs through it, the Valley of the Dore, or of
-the Water, for <i>water</i> is in Welsh <i>dwr</i>. The
-Normans, jumping to conclusions, translated
-this into <i>Val d’Or</i>, and so it became the
-Golden Valley; “which name,” says Camden,
-“It may well be thought to deserve, for its
-golden, rich, and pleasant fertility.”</p>
-
-<p>But it is improbable that either the fertility<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span>
-of the “Gilden Vale” or the remains of
-Abbeydore Monastery will tempt a motorist
-to leave the splendid road that will lead him
-into Hereford by Letton, and Bridge Sollars,
-and the White Cross that was set up in the
-fourteenth century when the plague was
-raging in Hereford, to mark the spot where
-the infection ceased, and where, in consequence,
-it was safe to hold a market. Here,
-on the left, lies the suburb of Widemarsh
-and beyond it the Racecourse, where the promising
-youth who was afterwards Edward I.
-showed at an early age that genius for
-extremely practical jokes that he used at
-the expense of the Welsh later on. He was
-the prisoner of Simon de Montfort on this
-occasion, and was taking a ride with a
-certain number of attendants. He guilelessly
-suggested that his guards should ride races
-among themselves, while he amused himself
-by looking on; then, when their horses were
-tired, he upon his fresh one galloped off to
-Dinmore Hill, where the Mortimers of Wigmore
-were waiting for him. This incident
-took place in Widemarsh; and in Widemarsh
-too is a relic that is worth seeking out before<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span>
-we drive into the heart of the town&mdash;the
-preaching-cross of the Dominicans, which,
-with the ruins of a thirteenth-century
-monastery, stands among the cabbages of
-the Coningsby Hospital. The latter is an
-Elizabethan foundation, and with the red
-coats of its pensioners is in itself a picturesque
-object in a town that is not very
-rich in visible memorials of its great history.
-We may look in vain for the castle that
-was, according to Leland, the largest and
-strongest in all England; the castle that
-was repaired by King Harold and was once
-so splendid with its ten wall-towers and great
-keep; where Ranulph of Normandy stayed,
-and Tostig, and King John, where John of
-Gaunt was governor, were Simon de Montfort
-imprisoned Prince Edward after the
-Battle of Lewes, where Isabella proclaimed
-her son Edward III. Protector of England,
-and where Owen Tudor was a prisoner. As
-it suffered no less than three sieges during
-the Civil War, and when they were over its
-remains were sold for £85, we need not be
-surprised that the castle is now represented
-by a public garden, where the youthful<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span>
-citizens of Hereford may play leap-frog over
-the spot where kings have feasted and made
-history. And not only has the castle disappeared,
-but even of the old houses there
-are very few remaining, as may be judged
-by the name of the fine one that stands in
-the principal street of the town. In Chester,
-Worcester, or Shrewsbury, “The Old House”
-would not be a very distinguishing name!</p>
-
-<p>The chief point of interest in Hereford is,
-of course, the Cathedral, with its long and
-somewhat confusing history. An endless
-number of people have had a hand in the
-building of it, apparently, from the days
-when Offa of Mercia enriched the shrine of
-his murdered guest, Ethelbert of East Anglia,
-till the quite recent and rather unfortunate
-day when the west front was finished. The
-consequence of this diversity of builders is
-that Hereford Cathedral, with its austere
-Norman south transept, its Early English
-Lady-Chapel, its Decorated south choir-transept,
-and its Perpendicular cloister, is
-a complete Guide of Architecture.</p>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill54" src="images/ill54.jpg" width="600" height="379" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">THE PREACHING CROSS, HEREFORD.</p></div>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill55" src="images/ill55.jpg" width="600" height="363" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">ROSS FROM WILTON.</p></div>
-
-<p>It was as the shrine of St. Ethelbert that it
-first became important. There is a good deal<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span>
-of disagreement on the subject of Ethelbert’s
-death. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, for instance,
-says <i>tout court</i> that in 792 Offa commanded
-the head of King Ethelbert to be
-cut off; whereas Matthew of Westminster
-gives quite a different version of the affair,
-completely exonerating Offa, “that most
-noble and most illustrious and most high-born
-king.” It was Offa’s queen, Quendritha,
-he says, who caused a peculiarly comfortable
-armchair to be placed in the bedroom of her
-visitor the King of East Anglia, and beneath
-it “a deep hole to be dug”&mdash;with very unpleasant
-consequences for the visitor. When
-the horrified Offa heard of Ethelbert’s fate
-he shut himself up and refused food. “But,”
-adds Matthew, “although he was quite innocent
-of all participation in the King’s death,
-he nevertheless sent a powerful expedition
-and annexed the Kingdom of the East Angles
-to his own dominions.”</p>
-
-<p>The murdered guest, whoever his murderer,
-was first buried at the spot still called St.
-Ethelbert’s Well, and afterwards in Hereford
-Cathedral, to its great enrichment.</p>
-
-<p>There are several roads from Hereford to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span>
-Ross, none of which follow the river closely.
-The most commonly used&mdash;being the least
-hilly&mdash;is by Bridstow and Much Birch. Between
-this road and the Wye are still to be
-seen traces of the College of Llanfrother,
-founded by Dubritius, that great Archbishop
-of Caerleon who preached so movingly at
-King Arthur’s coronation and then resigned
-his see to the still greater St. David. On the
-other side of the Wye is a shorter, but after
-the first five or six miles a more hilly route,
-with some fine backward views and some
-glimpses of the river. The surface of this
-road is all that can be desired, and the hills
-are by no means formidable; but as one
-approaches Ross the country is rather uninteresting.</p>
-
-<p>Ross itself may be regarded as a monument
-to one John Kyrle.</p>
-
-<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<div class="i0">“Rise, honest muse, and sing the Man of Ross! [cries Pope]</div>
-<div class="i0">Whose causeway paves the vale with shady rows?</div>
-<div class="i0">Whose seats the weary traveller repose?</div>
-<div class="i0">Who taught that heaven-directed spire to rise?</div>
-<div class="i0">‘The <i>Man of Ross</i>,’ each lisping babe replies.”</div>
-</div></div></div>
-
-<p>The lisping babe, however, is making a mis<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span>take,
-for the Man of Ross only taught the spire
-to rise forty-seven feet; and, moreover, it has
-been destroyed by lightning and rebuilt since
-his day (which was a very long day, lasting
-from 1637 to 1724). “A small exaggeration
-you must allow me as a poet,” said Pope.
-But the fame of John Kyrle does not depend
-upon the spire alone, for he did much to
-improve the town, and did it, too, on a very
-small income. “He was a very humble, good-natured
-man ... of little or no literature,”
-an eighteenth-century diarist says of him.
-“His estate was £500 per ann., and no
-more, with which he did wonders.” It was
-not, however, by means of this modest estate
-alone that he won his lasting fame as a
-philanthropist, but also by untiring energy
-and skill in the art of beggary, and the
-judicious use of other men’s money. In the
-case of the church bell it was his own money
-that he used, and his own silver goblet also.
-While the bell was in process of casting he
-drank to Church and King, and then flung
-the goblet into the molten metal&mdash;that after
-serving for the sacred toast it might be for
-ever consecrated to sacred uses. This incident<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span>
-adds a touch of the picturesque to the sterling
-qualities of the benevolent old gentleman to
-whom Ross owes its public walks, and the
-<i>Prospect</i> that quaint Gilpin of the eighteenth
-century described as “an amusing view.”
-Ross repays him by keeping his name green.
-It also&mdash;not entirely without difficulty&mdash;keeps
-green the two elm-suckers that long ago
-forced their way beneath the wall of the
-church and rose (being elms of Ross) in the
-pew of John Kyrle. They have been dead
-for some time, but they are still draped carefully
-with foliage to keep up the illusion.
-The church itself is fairly old, and has some
-interesting monuments, including an ugly one
-tardily raised to the memory of the Man of
-Ross.</p>
-
-<p>In the town the most cherished relics are,
-of course, Kyrle’s house and the carved monogram
-he is supposed to have placed on the
-outer wall of the Market Hall. The letters
-“F.C.” are interlaced with a heart, and are
-said to represent the words, “<i>Faithful to
-Charles in heart</i>,” for Kyrle was devoted to
-the Stuarts. Charles I. himself slept once in
-this town, and other kings have visited it,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span>
-but none has distinguished himself here save
-George IV. The Mayor of Ross sallied forth
-to meet him, as mayors use, wreathed in
-smiles and primed with speeches. By way
-of response to all this loyalty and eloquence,
-however, “the first gentleman in Europe”
-merely pulled down the blinds of the carriage!
-History does not record the mayor’s
-next proceeding. The position strikes one as
-difficult.</p>
-
-<p>Close to Ross and on our way to Monmouth
-is Wilton, which is reached by a beautiful and
-ancient bridge of six arches, whence there is
-a good view of Ross, clustered prettily on its
-hill and surmounted by its heaven-directed
-spire. Part of this bridge was broken down
-during the Civil War to prevent Cromwell’s
-army from reaching Hereford. The castle,
-too, fell into the hands of the Royalists,
-though its owner had carefully refrained
-from supporting either side, with the result
-that he offended both. The ruins now enclose
-a private garden and are fairly picturesque
-though they hardly compensate for an interrupted
-run. Within these walls, of which so
-very little is left, the poet Spenser was once<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span>
-entertained in the days of the Greys. Later
-on the castle was owned by the family of
-Brydges, one of whom, when he was Deputy-Lieutenant
-of the Tower, was the means,
-either deliberately or from mere procrastination,
-of securing for England one of the most
-glorious reigns in her history. The warrant
-for the execution of Princess Elizabeth
-reached the Tower, but Charles Brydges
-delayed to carry it out. While he was
-waiting Queen Mary died.</p>
-
-<p>From Wilton to Monmouth the scenery
-grows in beauty. At Goodrich Cross we
-should turn sharply to the left to visit the
-castle, and this is a matter that will take
-some time. For in the first place the castle
-is at some distance from the road, and in the
-second place there is much to see, and much,
-too, to hear. Yet there is little history connected
-with Goodrich, considering its age and
-dignity, and the great names of Pembroke
-and Talbot that are bound up with it. Its
-name, apparently is a corruption of <i>Godric</i>,
-who built a fort here before the Conquest,
-though the oldest part of the present ruin
-is said to date from the twelfth century. In<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span>
-the Civil War it endured two sieges, and it
-was after the second one, which lasted for five
-months, that the Parliament dismantled it.
-Except on this one dramatic occasion, Goodrich
-figured little in public life. It is the
-antiquary rather than the historian who will
-find it of absorbing interest, for the arches
-and Norman ornaments of the keep date from
-Stephen’s reign, and many styles of architecture
-are represented in the various galleries,
-sallyports, and towers, which have been
-gradually added by the successive owners of
-the castle. Greatest of these was Talbot, first
-Earl of Shrewsbury and hero of forty fights,
-“a valiant man, of an invincible, unconquered
-spirit.” He is said to have added a room to
-the keep, whence he must often have seen,
-as we may see, the Malvern Hills and the
-Welsh mountains in the distance, with
-Symond’s Yat and the Kymin nearer at
-hand.</p>
-
-<p>Below Goodrich is Huntsham Ferry, which
-Henry IV. was in the act of crossing when
-he heard of the birth of his son, afterwards
-Henry V. So great was his excitement on
-this occasion that he impulsively presented<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span>
-the ferry and its profits to the ferryman,
-whose heirs held this possession for generations.</p>
-
-<p>About three miles from Goodrich we have
-to climb a short hill with a gradient of
-1 in 10; the steepest, I think, on this Wye
-Valley road. From the top of it we run
-down on an easy slope past the wall of
-Wyaston Leys and through the woods behind
-the Little Doward, with a beautiful
-view&mdash;unfortunately visible only in glimpses&mdash;of
-the winding river as it bends away towards
-Symond’s Yat. At the foot of the hill we
-enter Monmouth.</p>
-
-<p>Now Monmouth, or some spot quite near
-it, is without doubt the best motoring centre
-on the Wye. The town itself is not so
-pleasant to stay in as Ross or Tintern, where
-there are hotels in pretty positions with nice
-gardens; but to the motorist this is less
-important than to others, since he will
-probably spend the day on the road. The
-important thing is to have a variety of
-interesting roads upon which to spend it.
-From Monmouth, one may drive up the Wye
-to Goodrich, Hereford, and Hay; or down<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span>
-the Wye to Tintern and Chepstow; or
-through the Forest of Dean on the further
-side of the river; or to Raglan, eight miles
-away, and on to Abergavenny; or past Abergavenny
-and the Holy Mountain into the
-wild Vale of Ewyas to far Llanthony.</p>
-
-<p>“I’ll tell you, there is goot men porn at
-Monmouth,” says Fluellen, thinking of his
-king; and it is of Harry of Monmouth that
-we too think as we wake the echoes of his
-birthplace with our horn&mdash;those echoes that
-have so often answered to the “tucket” of
-John of Gaunt and of many another. Some
-say that it was John of Gaunt who built
-the castle in which his grandson was born,
-but whether this be the case or not there was
-a castle on this spot long before his day,
-though little seems to be known of it. The
-probability is that John of Gaunt improved
-and repaired the castle that was already
-there. The existing building has had an
-unusually chequered career even for a castle,
-having been in turn a palace, a pig-stye, an
-assize court, and a barrack. Even in James
-I.’s time it was said “that his Majestie hath
-one ancient castell, called Monmouth Castell<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span>
-... which is nowe and hath been for a long
-time ruinous and in decaye, but by whom
-it hath byn decayed wee knowe not, nor
-to what value, in regarde it was before our
-rememberment.” “Harry’s Window,” but
-little else, survives as a shrine to the king
-whose name is still “a name to conjure
-with.” His statue stands on the town-hall,
-but the bells of St. Mary’s are the best
-memorial of Prince Hal, though their story
-is more characteristic of the rollicking schoolboy
-of Shakespeare than of the wise and
-soldierly monarch of history. Time was
-when these bells rang out over the town
-of Calais. They were doing so when Harry
-of Monmouth heard them first, and were, in
-point of fact, celebrating his departure from
-the shores of France with so much joyousness
-that the demonstration seemed to him
-to be carried too far. He vowed that they
-should ring no more insolent peals in Calais,
-and forthwith ordered them to be taken down
-and carried to his native town.</p>
-
-<p>His town has other memories than his, and
-even other famous windows than “Harry’s.”
-There is a fine oriel window, belonging now<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span>
-to a school, but carefully preserved in honour
-of a twelfth-century archdeacon, who was
-none other than that Geoffrey of Monmouth
-whom Camden describes as “an Author well
-skill’d in Antiquities, but, as it seems, not of
-entire credit.” I fear there is little to be
-said in defence of Geoffrey’s credit as a
-historian, and there are those who say that
-his window is no more authentic than his
-writings.</p>
-
-<p>Monmouth, like Hereford, is not rich in
-relics. Of its defences, its walls and its four
-gates, there is left only one gate on the
-Monnow Bridge, but of this the foundations
-are so old that there is no record of their
-origin. The form of the gateway itself has
-been slightly altered from time to time to
-suit increasing traffic, but its picturesqueness
-is uninjured. Through its arch we must pass
-on our way to Raglan and Abergavenny and
-Llanthony.</p>
-
-<p>It is possible, of course, to see all these
-places on the same day, but it is not desirable.
-At Raglan one should have a leisured
-mind, undisturbed by thoughts of space or
-time or possible punctures. There are seats<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span>
-on its green terraces where one might sit
-happily all day under the shadow of the
-Yellow Tower of Gwent, seeing, not only
-the straight, stern lines of the great citadel
-rising from the moat, and the beautiful
-windows beyond, and the machicolated
-towers that flank the entrance, but also,
-as clearly as these, the pageantry and
-doughty deeds of long-dead but unforgotten
-Somersets. Some of them lost their heads
-in defence of the Rose of York, and some
-lost theirs for the Rose of Lancaster, and
-one, the most famous of all, lost the home
-of his fathers in the cause of the thankless
-Stuarts. Charles I. himself&mdash;for whose sake
-all this splendour of banqueting-halls and
-state-rooms and strong defences was made
-a ruin&mdash;has stood upon this terrace and
-looked up at the great keep to which he
-was so fatal, has feasted in the Elizabethan
-Hall, has ridden between the entrance-towers
-in state, and has come to them for safety
-as a fugitive. It was after the Battle of
-Naseby that he fled for protection to the
-house whose hospitalities he knew so well,
-and whose owner, the first Marquis of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span>
-Worcester, had raised an army of two
-thousand men to fight for the King. Somewhere,
-in some dark corner within those
-walls that were then so stately, Lord
-Worcester met his ruined King by stealth,
-and being aged and infirm was obliged to
-call for help before he could kneel, as it
-behoved him, before the fugitive. “Sire,”
-said the old man weeping, “I have not a
-thought in my heart that tends not to the
-service of my God and you;” and he put
-three hundred pounds into the royal hand
-that took so much and gave so little. It
-closed upon this gift, as it closed a few
-days later upon the waistcoat that the Vicar
-of Goodrich, Dean Swift’s grandfather, had
-lined with Broad Pieces. There was one
-occasion, it is true, when Charles feared
-his entertainment might be too costly to
-Lord Worcester, and suggested pleasantly
-that supplies should be wrung from the
-neighbouring peasants. But Worcester was
-prouder than the King, “My castle would
-not stand long,” he said, “if it leaned upon
-the country.”</p>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill56" src="images/ill56.jpg" width="600" height="380" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">MONNOW BRIDGE, MONMOUTH.</p></div>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill57" src="images/ill57.jpg" width="382" height="600" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">RAGLAN CASTLE, ENTRANCE TOWER.</p></div>
-
-<p>Even as matters were, his castle did not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span>
-stand long. It held for the King till the
-last barrel of powder was opened; but the
-sad day came when the gallant old man of
-eighty-five passed for the last time through
-his own great gateway, between those warlike
-towers that had fought their last fight.
-He marched out to the sound of music and
-with all the honours of war, but his heart
-was broken, and after a short imprisonment
-in the custody of Black Rod, he died. “When
-I spoke with the man,” he said of his guardian,
-“I found him a very civil gentleman, but I
-saw no black rod.”</p>
-
-<p>With this splendid old warrior the glory
-of Raglan departed. Fairfax so dealt with
-it that neither blood nor wine should ever
-be spilt within its walls again; and the work
-begun by him was finished by private enterprise.
-It is said that twenty-three staircases
-have been stolen from the ruins of Raglan.</p>
-
-<p>About eight miles beyond Raglan is Abergavenny,
-lying peacefully&mdash;forgetful of its
-lurid past&mdash;in the shadow of the Holy
-Mountain. There is about Abergavenny
-now a peculiar serenity that is only equalled
-by the darkness of its history. Not very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span>
-much is left of the Castle, of which Giraldus
-Cambrensis, the historian, said that “it was
-more dishonoured by treachery than any
-other in Wales”; and what there is of it
-is dishonoured now by swing-boats and
-asphalt lawn-tennis courts. If these attractions
-appeal to us we may enter the walls
-by paying twopence; but in the twelfth
-century the Seisyllts&mdash;the ancestors of the
-Cecils&mdash;found that entering Abergavenny
-Castle cost them more than this. One of
-them, in the absence of the Norman lord
-of the place, was having a friendly chat one
-day with the constable. There was a part
-of the wall that was in some way weaker
-than the rest, and Seisyllt, pointing laughingly
-to this spot, said in the manner of one who
-jests, “We shall come in there to-night.”
-The constable took the precaution of keeping
-guard till daylight, then went to sleep. A
-few hours later he and his wife were prisoners
-and the castle was captured and burnt.</p>
-
-<p>It was after this, I believe, when the castle
-had been rebuilt, that the villain, William
-de Braose, invited the princes of South Wales
-to a banquet in these halls, picked a quarrel<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span>
-with them at his own table, and had them
-massacred before his eyes. He then solemnly
-thanked God for the fortunate issue of the
-affair, and more especially for the lands of
-the dead Seisyllts. For this William de
-Braose, traitor, murderer, and robber, never
-forgot to be pious. “He always placed the
-name of the Lord before his sentences,” says
-Giraldus; and his letters “were loaded, or
-rather honoured, with words expressive of
-the divine indulgence, to a degree not only
-tiresome to his scribe, but even to his
-auditors; for as a reward to each of his
-scribes for concluding his letters with the
-words ‘by divine assistance’ he gave annually
-a piece of gold.” In the matter of the murdered
-Seisyllts, however, his thanksgiving
-was premature, for there were Seisyllts still
-alive who fell upon Abergavenny Castle and
-demolished it.</p>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill58" src="images/ill58.jpg" width="381" height="600" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">THE MOAT, RAGLAN CASTLE.</p></div>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill59" src="images/ill59.jpg" width="600" height="447" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">LLANTHONY PRIORY.</p></div>
-
-<p>It raised its head again and took an active
-part in larger wars; but it adds little nowadays
-to the attraction of Abergavenny, whose
-charms are altogether those of peacefulness
-and depend on the quiet Usk, and the hills
-that grow so purple against the evening sky.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span>
-To reach Llanthony we must drive on into
-the heart of those hills, with the Skirrid Fawr,
-or Holy Mountain, on the right and the Sugar
-Loaf on the left; then, at Llanfihangel
-Crucorney, turn sharply to the left down a
-short but very steep hill, and so enter the
-Vale of Ewyas. Soon after passing Cwmyoy
-the road grows very narrow and hilly. At
-Llanthony we can take our car into the
-cloister-garth, for it is now the courtyard
-of an inn.</p>
-
-<p>Long ago, when Rufus was king, a horseman
-drew rein here and looked about him.
-On every side he saw the grand, clear outline
-of the hills, and the shadows of the
-clouds sweeping across the fern and heather,
-and the dark masses of the woods. Below
-him the little Honddu glittered among the
-trees, and far away at the head of the
-valley the heights of the Black Mountains
-rose between him and the world. And then
-and there he vowed that they should rise
-between him and the world while he lived,
-and should guard his grave when he was
-dead. We can see the same hills at this
-moment rising blue and misty behind the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span>
-ruined towers of his Priory of Llanthony;
-and only a few yards away, among the
-grass and nettles, we can see the spot
-where William de Lacy, soldier and monk,
-was buried under the High Altar.</p>
-
-<p>William de Lacy was not the first to
-whom this valley appealed as being “truly
-fitted for contemplation, a happy and
-delightful spot”; for long before his day
-this very place to which he had wandered
-by chance had been made sacred by the
-prayers of the greatest of all Welsh saints,
-St. David. We may say our prayers on the
-self-same spot to-day, for over there, just
-beyond the cloister-garth, where St. David
-had long before made himself a hermitage,
-de Lacy built a tiny chapel. For many
-centuries the richly endowed Priory has
-been deserted, roofless, desecrated; its very
-arches are fringed with weeds, and fowls
-peck at its grass-grown altar steps; but over
-there in that plain little grey stone building
-prayers are still rising Sunday by Sunday
-from the spot where St. David knelt alone.</p>
-
-<p>Here in Llandewi Nanthodeni, or the
-Church of St. David beside the river<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span>
-Honddu, William de Lacy “laid aside his
-belt and girded himself with a rope;
-instead of fine linen he covered himself
-with haircloth, and instead of his soldier’s
-robe he loaded himself with weighty iron.”
-His solitude did not last long. In those
-roystering days the sudden piety of a
-soldier of noble birth was not likely to
-pass unnoticed, and Matilda, Henry I.’s
-Queen, whom William of Malmesbury
-describes as singularly holy and by no
-means despicable in point of beauty, came
-to visit the hermit in his hill-bound cell,
-and playfully dropped a large purse of gold
-into the folds of his coarse garments. His
-fame grew. Soon there were many who
-desired to share his seclusion, and still
-more who, while not quite seeing their
-way to the forsaking of this world, were
-anxious to show their interest in the next.
-The former gave their lives and the latter
-their money, and so Llanthony Priory rose
-in all its grace and simplicity, the quiet
-lines of its architecture in perfect harmony
-with those of the great hills that encircled
-it. “The whole treasure of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span>
-King and his kingdom,” said Henry I.’s
-Prime Minister, “would not be sufficient to
-build such a cloister.” The Court was
-rather scandalised by this bold statement,
-till the Prime Minister explained that “he
-alluded to the cloister of mountains by
-which this church is on every side surrounded.”</p>
-
-<p>Giraldus describes the place as he saw it
-in the twelfth century. “A situation truly
-calculated for religion,” he says, “and more
-adapted to canonical discipline than all the
-monasteries of the British Isles.... Here
-the monks, sitting in their cloisters enjoying
-the fresh air, when they happen to
-look up towards the horizon, behold the tops
-of the mountains as it were touching the
-heavens, and herds of wild deer feeding on
-their summits.” It is probable that when
-the Augustinians of Llanthony looked up
-towards the horizon it was not altogether
-for the pleasure of seeing the wild deer.
-They had other reasons for taking an
-interest in the hills, which too often were
-swarming with the hostile Welsh. It was
-not long, indeed, before the brethren’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span>
-terror of the Welsh grew stronger than
-their love of isolation, and the greater
-number of them fled to Gloucester, where
-in a new Priory of Llanthony their meditations
-were undisturbed.</p>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill60" src="images/ill60.jpg" width="600" height="450" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">INTERIOR OF LLANTHONY PRIORY, SHOWING THE EAST END.</p></div>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill61" src="images/ill61.jpg" width="389" height="600" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">TINTERN ABBEY.</p></div>
-
-<p>The beautiful valley, with its great, bare
-hilltops and mysterious woods, its loneliness
-and calm, its memories of saintly men,
-attracted a poet of the last century so
-strongly that he, like William de Lacy,
-determined to stay here. Like de Lacy’s
-monks, however, Walter Savage Landor
-could not get on with his neighbours, and
-after buying the ruins of the Priory and
-building himself half a house he quarrelled
-so thoroughly with all the countryside
-that he thought he would have more peace
-elsewhere. He lived in the rooms that
-now form an inn, in the Prior’s Lodge, and
-here Southey stayed with him.</p>
-
-<p>This run from Monmouth to Llanthony
-is about twenty-five miles in length. If we
-are not wedded to the high-road we may
-return to Monmouth by another route&mdash;composed
-almost entirely of byways and
-in some cases very hilly ones&mdash;and so visit<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span>
-Grosmont and Skenfrith Castles. The red
-towers of Grosmont stand, as the name
-implies, on a hill that is not climbed
-without an effort, and the ruin overlooks a
-village that was once a town, and indeed
-is technically a town still. It still possesses
-a charter, I believe, and a Mayor’s staff;
-but in the matter of size and prosperity it
-has been no more than a village since the
-day when Henry V., then Prince of Wales,
-wrote to his “most redoubted and most
-sovereign lord and father” in his “most
-humble manner” to this effect: “On
-Wednesday the eleventh day of this present
-month of March (1405) your rebels of the
-parts of Glamorgan, Morgannoc, Usk,
-Netherwent, and Overwent, were assembled
-to the number of eight thousand men,
-according to their own account; and they
-went on the said Wednesday in the morning,
-and burnt part of your town of
-Grosmont ... and I immediately sent off
-my very dear cousin, the Lord Talbot, and
-the small body of my own household ...
-who were but a very small force in all....
-And there, by the aid of the Blessed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span>
-Trinity, your people gained the field and
-vanquished all the said rebels, and slew of
-them by fair account on the field on their
-return from the chase, some say eight
-hundred, and some say a thousand, being
-questioned on pain of death. Nevertheless,
-whether it were one or the other, on such
-an account I would not contend.”</p>
-
-<p>That was a sad day for poor Alice Scudamore,
-who lived hard by at Kentchurch
-Court beyond the river Monnow; for Alice
-Scudamore, or Skydmore, was the daughter
-of Owen Glyndwr, and the dead men whom
-Prince Henry left upon the field of
-Grosmont were Owen’s followers. This
-defeat was Owen’s first serious disaster,
-and was for him the beginning of the end.
-It is said that years later, after the end
-had come, he lived for a time with his
-daughter in the castellated tower that still
-stands below the hill of Grosmont; and,
-indeed, Kentchurch sometimes claims to be
-his burial-place. But the claims of Monnington,
-where another of his daughters lived,
-are generally thought to be more authentic.</p>
-
-<p>By making a very short detour from the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span>
-direct road we may see the ruins of Skenfrith
-Castle on our way back to Monmouth.
-Even in the seventeenth century this castle
-was described as having been “decayed
-time out of the memory of man,” and its
-remains are now naturally scanty and not
-especially picturesque. Far more interesting
-than the castle is the church, with its
-pretty timbered tower and fine sixteenth-century
-tombs. At the vicarage is carefully
-preserved the rarest treasure of this
-church: a cope that dates from the days
-before the Reformation.</p>
-
-<p>On the other side of Monmouth, beyond
-the Wye, is the Forest of Dean, where one
-may drive for miles through country nearly
-as grand and quite as thickly wooded as
-the Black Forest. In most cases the trees
-are not nearly so fine as those of our own
-New Forest, for the greater part of this
-Forest of Dean was cut down to build our
-victorious fleets of the eighteenth century;
-but the width of view and the succession
-of tree-clad hills rising one beyond another,
-are compensations for the lack of magnificent
-individual trees. Of these, however,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span>
-there are a few, such as the Newland Oak
-and the High Beeches. But on the whole
-the beauty of Dean Forest lies in its distant
-views, its great expanses of foliage
-stretching away from one’s feet to the blue
-horizon, as at the Speech House and above
-Parkend, and at many another place;
-though unfortunately many of these views
-are partly, if not entirely, spoilt by the
-black scars and smoking chimneys of the
-collieries. The Speech House is now a
-hotel, but it was originally built in
-Charles II.’s day as a kind of Court House
-in which to settle disputes connected with
-the Forest. St. Briavel’s Castle, a few
-miles further south than this, and nearer
-the Wye, is a far older relic, for it is said
-that it once sheltered King John. Be that
-as it may, the little that is left of this castle
-is peculiarly attractive. To reach it, or the
-Speech House, or indeed to drive in the
-Forest of Dean at all, one must be prepared
-to encounter long hills with gradients in
-some places not less than 1 in 7, and roads
-that have suffered a good deal from the
-heavy traffic connected with the mines.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>There is one expedition from Monmouth
-that we cannot possibly undertake in a
-car, yet should by no means omit. The
-famous Symond’s Yat, with its perfect river
-scenery, cannot be approached by road, but
-it is easy to reach it by train, and very
-delightful to return to Monmouth by water,
-past the great limestone crags known as
-the Seven Sisters. At the hotel, where the
-train deposits one, the attraction is simply
-the view of the river and its wooded
-banks, but for the energetic this view may
-be much enlarged by half an hour’s climb
-to the summit of the Yat itself, where
-those who enjoy scenery in proportion to
-the number of counties visible, may have
-the satisfaction of seeing seven. It was
-near Symond’s Yat, at a defile significantly
-called The Slaughter to this day, that the
-Danes, under Eric of the Bloody Axe, were
-defeated by King Alfred’s son Edward the
-Elder, named also the Unconquered, whom
-Matthew of Westminster declares to have
-been “even more glorious than his father
-for power and dignity.”</p>
-
-<p>The last fifteen miles of the Wye Valley,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span>
-from Monmouth to Chepstow, where the
-Wye falls into the estuary of the Severn, are
-probably as beautiful as any fifteen miles
-of English road. It is late in May or early
-in October that we should drive along this
-road to see it at its best, for the whole
-landscape is filled with trees. The quiet
-river, with the road close beside it, winds
-between two wooded heights from Redbrook
-to the Severn. A gentle rise takes us out
-of Redbrook, which has spoilt its beauty
-by manufacturing tin-plate; then we run
-down to Bigsweir Bridge, and cross it, with
-a lovely view downstream; pass Llandogo,
-where the Wye becomes tidal; pass Brockweir
-with its ferry; and driving through
-Tintern Parva come within sight of the
-unsurpassed beauty of Tintern Abbey.</p>
-
-<p>Go to Tintern again and again, for it
-never palls. See it when the trees are first
-breaking into leaf, and all the leaves are
-of different colours; and see it again
-against the heavy foliage of the summer
-woods; and again when the hills behind
-it are red and gold in autumn. For the
-Cistercians, though they denied art, were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span>
-surely admirable artists; and being forbidden
-by their stern rule to adorn their churches
-with coloured glass or superfluous carving,
-they raised for themselves buildings of
-perfect form in the loveliest places in all
-England, where in spring and autumn the
-cold grey stone of their exquisite windows
-was the frame of fairer colours than were
-ever stained on glass.</p>
-
-<p>It was of this abbey that the incomparable
-Gilpin wrote quite gravely: “A number
-of gable-ends hurt the eye with their regularity
-and disgust it by the vulgarity of
-their shape.” A mallet, judiciously used,
-he suggested, might make improvements.
-Unfortunately time and long neglect have
-done only too much towards the ruin of
-Tintern, without any help from the judicious
-mallet of Gilpin. For many years the
-place was utterly uncared for; the stones
-were used by any one who wished to build
-a cottage, and an old beggar-woman made
-her dwelling in the library of the monks.
-This was long ago: every care is given to
-Tintern now. The floor of the nave is
-covered with well-kept turf, the fallen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span>
-fragments of masonry are gathered together,
-the weak places of the building are strengthened
-wherever it is possible. But the
-alarming curves of the arches bear witness
-to past neglect, and the timid tourist is
-appalled by the ominous warning on the
-notice-board: “Persons who visit this Abbey
-do so at their own risk.” This is discouraging.</p>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill62" src="images/ill62.jpg" width="381" height="600" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">TINTERN ABBEY.</p></div>
-
-<div class="center">
-<img id="ill63" src="images/ill63.jpg" width="600" height="354" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">CHEPSTOW CASTLE.</p></div>
-
-<p>From Tintern the road rises for about
-three miles towards the splendid scenery
-of the Wyndcliff. The river winds below,
-and beyond it among the trees a discerning
-eye may detect the straight ridge of Offa’s
-Dyke. The view from the road as it passes
-beneath the famous cliff is wonderfully
-beautiful&mdash;a view of tortuous river and
-height beyond height of woodland, and
-gleaming in the distance the waters of
-the Severn estuary: and those who climb
-the Wyndcliff come down again well contented,
-having seen nine counties.</p>
-
-<p>As we pass the little village at St. Arvan’s
-the river is completely hidden by the walls
-and trees of Piercefield Park. A gentle
-descent of about two miles brings us to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span>
-the steep hill that winds downwards into
-Chepstow above the castle, passing under
-one of the old town-gates.</p>
-
-<p>“The towne of Chepstow hath bene very
-strongly waulled,” says Leland. “The waulles
-began at the ende of the great bridge over
-Wy, and so cam to the castel, the which
-yet standeth fayr and strong.” To all
-appearances, as seen from the further side
-of Wye, it is strong still, and fair it certainly
-is, standing high upon the red cliffs
-that add so much to the beauty of this
-last bend of the river. It covers three
-acres of ground, but as it is built in a
-succession of courts, sloping upwards one
-above the other, the whole of its great
-length may be seen at once and the effect
-is very fine. This castle, since it was built
-by William FitzOsborne, Earl of Hereford,
-soon after the Conquest, has seen a good
-deal of life, and even more of death. Its
-second owner forfeited it, being of too independent
-a temperament to please the King.
-William, having safely imprisoned this
-rebellious Roger, sent him as an Easter
-gift his own royal robes&mdash;an attention that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span>
-was meant well, but was not very tactful.
-Earl Roger “forthwith caused a great fire
-to be made, and the mantle, the inner surcoat
-of silk, and the upper garment, lined
-with precious furs, to be suddenly burnt.”
-This was his last act of rebellion. “By
-the brightness of God,” exclaimed the flouted
-King, “he shall never come out of prison
-as long as I live!”</p>
-
-<p>Later on the castle passed to the great
-house of Clare.</p>
-
-<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<div class="i0">“From Chepstow’s towers, ere dawn of morn,</div>
-<div class="i0">Was heard afar the bugle-horn;</div>
-<div class="i0">And forth in banded pomp and pride</div>
-<div class="i0">Stout Clare and fiery Neville ride.”<a name="FNanchor_13" id="FNanchor_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a></div>
-</div></div></div>
-
-<p>The greatest of the Clares, Richard Strongbow,
-sometimes called the Conqueror of
-Ireland, was born at Chepstow; “a man tall
-in stature,” we are told, “and of great generosity,
-and courteous manner.... In time of
-peace he was more disposed to be led by
-others than to command,” but “the post he
-occupied in battle was a sure rallying-point
-for his troops.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>The castle passed from hand to hand
-through the stirring centuries that followed
-Strongbow’s day. In the Civil War it had
-many adventures. It held for the King at
-first, was taken by the army of the Parliament,
-and was recaptured by a handful
-of Royalists under Sir Nicholas Kemys, by
-guile rather than by force. “On the whole,”
-says Carlyle, “Cromwell will have to go....
-Let him march swiftly!” He marched swiftly
-and took the town of Chepstow, but besieged
-the castle in vain. Carlyle tells the tale in
-few words: “Castle will not surrender,&mdash;he
-leaves Colonel Ewer to do the Castle; who,
-after four weeks, does it.” It was not easily,
-however, that Colonel Ewer “did it.” The
-garrison, reduced to nineteen, held out till
-they were starving, and even then determined,
-not on surrender, but on flight. Their
-boat lay ready beneath the walls, waiting
-for the darkness. But when night came no
-boat was there, for a soldier of the Parliament,
-a man of keen eyes, had detected
-both the boat and her object, and, with a
-knife between his teeth, had swum across
-the Wye and cut the rope that moored her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span>
-to the river-bank. The next day the nineteen
-Royalists surrendered. Thus Colonel
-Ewer “did the castle.”</p>
-
-<p>During the Commonwealth Jeremy Taylor,
-the author of “Holy Living and Holy Dying”&mdash;according
-to Coleridge the most eloquent
-of divines&mdash;was imprisoned in Chepstow
-Castle as a follower of Archbishop Laud:
-and here, too, when Cromwell’s day was
-over, Sir Henry Marten, the regicide, suffered
-a mild form of imprisonment for
-twenty years. He was allowed not only to
-receive his friends but to visit them, and he
-was not deprived of the companionship of
-his wife. From what I read, however, I
-cannot assure myself that he appreciated
-the last of these privileges. He was buried
-in Chepstow Church, under an epitaph that
-he composed himself&mdash;a rhyming epitaph of
-a high moral tone. Yet neither poetry nor
-morality was Marten’s strong point. At a
-later date a loyalist vicar removed from
-the chancel to the nave the bones of the
-man who had signed Charles I.’s death-warrant.</p>
-
-<p>Chepstow Church once formed part of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span>
-a Benedictine Priory connected with the
-Norman Abbey of Cormeilles, and was originally
-the nave of a larger building. It dates
-from early in the twelfth century; and even
-if one has not time to enter the church it
-is well worth while to drive past the beautiful
-Early Norman entrance. There are
-some interesting tombs within, notably that
-of the second Earl of Worcester, who was
-present at the Field of the Cloth of Gold.</p>
-
-<p>Two miles south of Chepstow is Mathern,
-where Tewdric of Glamorganshire, saint and
-king, was buried. He was killed in a battle
-fought at Tintern, and in the year 600 a
-chapel was built here as a shrine for him.</p>
-
-<p>“Wye also,” says Leland, “a very great
-and famose river, passeth through Ventland,
-and at S. Tereudake’s Chapel entereth ynto
-Severn.”</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><a name="INDEX" id="INDEX">INDEX</a></h2>
-
-<ul class="index"><li class="ifrst">Abbeydore, <a href="#Page_236">236</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Abbey Foregate, Shrewsbury, <a href="#Page_24">24</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Aber, <a href="#Page_101">101</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Aberaeron, <a href="#Page_222">222</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Aberavon, <a href="#Page_180">180</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Aberconwy, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>, <a href="#Page_88">88</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Aberdaron, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_115">115-117</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Aberdovy, <a href="#Page_152">152-155</a>, <a href="#Page_157">157</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Abergavenny, <a href="#Page_247">247</a>, <a href="#Page_249">249</a>, <a href="#Page_252">252-254</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Abergele, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_85">85</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Aberglaslyn, Pass of, <a href="#Page_94">94</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_110">110</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Abergwili, <a href="#Page_190">190</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Aberteifi, <a href="#Page_219">219</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Aberystwith, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>, <a href="#Page_142">142-145</a>, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>, <a href="#Page_149">149</a>, <a href="#Page_222">222</a>, <a href="#Page_225">225</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Agincourt, <a href="#Page_152">152</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Alaw, River, <a href="#Page_121">121</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Albright Hussey, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>, <a href="#Page_47">47</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Alla Wen, <a href="#Page_97">97</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Anglesey, <a href="#Page_100">100-102</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, <a href="#Page_239">239</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Arthur, King, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>, <a href="#Page_167">167</a>, <a href="#Page_168">168</a>, <a href="#Page_240">240</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Arthur, Prince, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>, <a href="#Page_14">14</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Atcham, <a href="#Page_25">25</a></li>
-
-<li class="ifrst">Bala, <a href="#Page_152">152</a>, <a href="#Page_159">159-161</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Bala, Lake of, <a href="#Page_159">159</a>, <a href="#Page_162">162</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Baldwin, Archbishop, <a href="#Page_102">102</a>, <a href="#Page_118">118</a>, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>, <a href="#Page_172">172</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Bangor, <a href="#Page_98">98</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Bardsey, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_115">115</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Baring-Gould, Rev. S., <a href="#Page_147">147</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Barlow, Bishop, <a href="#Page_199">199</a>, <a href="#Page_213">213</a>, <a href="#Page_214">214</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Barmouth, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>, <a href="#Page_222">222</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Barmouth Estuary, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>, <a href="#Page_152">152</a>, <a href="#Page_155">155</a>, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>, <a href="#Page_158">158</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Baron Hill, <a href="#Page_101">101</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Bassetts, <a href="#Page_174">174</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Battlefield, <a href="#Page_34">34</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Baxter, Richard, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_44">44</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Bayston Hill, <a href="#Page_12">12</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Beaupré, <a href="#Page_62">62</a>, <a href="#Page_165">165</a>, <a href="#Page_173">173-175</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Beaumaris, <a href="#Page_99">99</a>, <a href="#Page_100">100-102</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Bedd Gelert, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_110">110</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Belesme, Robert de, <a href="#Page_43">43</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Benbow, Admiral, <a href="#Page_45">45</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Bendigeid Vran, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>, <a href="#Page_121">121</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Berkeley Castle, <a href="#Page_170">170</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Berwyn, <a href="#Page_77">77</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Bethesda, <a href="#Page_98">98</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Bettws-y-Coed, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>, <a href="#Page_94">94</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_108">108</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Borth, <a href="#Page_113">113</a>, <a href="#Page_149">149</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Boscobel, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_31">31-33</a>, <a href="#Page_44">44</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Bigsweir Bridge, <a href="#Page_265">265</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Birmingham Waterworks, <a href="#Page_229">229</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Bishop’s Castle, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>, <a href="#Page_56">56</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Black Mountains, <a href="#Page_232">232</a>, <a href="#Page_255">255</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Bolingbroke, <a href="#Page_85">85</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Borrow, George, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>, <a href="#Page_109">109</a>, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_222">222</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Boteler of Dunraven, <a href="#Page_177">177</a>, <a href="#Page_178">178</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Brampton Brian, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Branwen, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>, <a href="#Page_121">121</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Braose, Matilda de, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>, <a href="#Page_187">187</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Braose, William de, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>, <a href="#Page_253">253</a>, <a href="#Page_254">254</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Brecon, <a href="#Page_151">151</a>, <a href="#Page_183">183</a>, <a href="#Page_185">185-187</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Brecon Beacons, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>, <a href="#Page_187">187</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Breidden Hills, <a href="#Page_62">62</a>, <a href="#Page_134">134</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Bridgend, <a href="#Page_177">177</a>, <a href="#Page_178">178</a>, <a href="#Page_180">180</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Bridge Sollars, <a href="#Page_234">234</a>, <a href="#Page_236">236</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Bridgnorth, <a href="#Page_42">42-45</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Bridstow, <a href="#Page_240">240</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Briton Ferry, <a href="#Page_180">180</a>, <a href="#Page_181">181</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Brockweir, <a href="#Page_265">265</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Bromfield, <a href="#Page_10">10</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Broseley, <a href="#Page_45">45</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Browning, Robert, <a href="#Page_71">71</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Brychan, <a href="#Page_185">185</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Brydges, Charles, <a href="#Page_24">24</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Buildwas, <a href="#Page_26">26-28</a>, <a href="#Page_44">44</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Builth, <a href="#Page_222">222</a>, <a href="#Page_230">230</a>, <a href="#Page_231">231</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Butler, Lady Eleanor, <a href="#Page_71">71</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Bwlch Oerdrws, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>, <a href="#Page_133">133</a></li>
-
-<li class="ifrst">Cadell, Prince of South Wales, <a href="#Page_146">146</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Cader Idris, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>, <a href="#Page_158">158</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Caerleon, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>, <a href="#Page_166">166-169</a>, <a href="#Page_216">216</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Caerphilly, <a href="#Page_166">166</a>, <a href="#Page_169">169</a>, <a href="#Page_170">170</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Caersws, <a href="#Page_138">138</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Caldey Island, <a href="#Page_198">198</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Camden, <a href="#Page_89">89</a>, <a href="#Page_98">98</a>, <a href="#Page_233">233</a>, <a href="#Page_235">235</a>, <a href="#Page_249">249</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Cann Office, <a href="#Page_133">133</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Capel Curig, <a href="#Page_96">96</a>, <a href="#Page_108">108</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Caradoc, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>, <a href="#Page_25">25</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Caradoc of Llancarvan, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>, <a href="#Page_194">194</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Cardiff, <a href="#Page_166">166</a>, <a href="#Page_170">170</a>, <a href="#Page_171">171</a>, <a href="#Page_173">173</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Cardiff Waterworks, <a href="#Page_184">184</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Cardigan, <a href="#Page_219">219-221</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Carew Castle, <a href="#Page_205">205-208</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Carew, Celtic Cross, <a href="#Page_205">205</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Carlyle, Thomas, <a href="#Page_203">203</a>, <a href="#Page_270">270</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Carmarthen, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_190">190-195</a>, <a href="#Page_222">222</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Carnarvon, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>, <a href="#Page_99">99</a>, <a href="#Page_103">103-105</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Carningley, <a href="#Page_218">218</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Castell Crogen, <a href="#Page_68">68</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Caus Castle, <a href="#Page_54">54</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Cawdor, Lord, <a href="#Page_218">218</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Cefn-y-Bedd, <a href="#Page_231">231</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Ceiriog, River, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>, <a href="#Page_68">68</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Ceiriog, Valley of the, <a href="#Page_67">67</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Ceirw, River, <a href="#Page_79">79</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Cernioge, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>, <a href="#Page_80">80</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Cerrig Cennen, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>, <a href="#Page_190">190</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Cerrig-y-Druidion, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>, <a href="#Page_79">79</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Charles I., <a href="#Page_15">15</a>, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>, <a href="#Page_242">242</a>, <a href="#Page_250">250</a>, <a href="#Page_251">251</a>, <a href="#Page_271">271</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Charles II., <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_31">31-33</a>, <a href="#Page_69">69</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Chastillon, Battle of, <a href="#Page_48">48</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Chepstow, <a href="#Page_225">225</a>, <a href="#Page_247">247</a>, <a href="#Page_265">265</a>, <a href="#Page_268">268-272</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Chester, Hugh, Earl of, <a href="#Page_98">98</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Chirbury, <a href="#Page_52">52-54</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Chirbury, Lord Herbert of, <a href="#Page_52">52-54</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Chirk, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>, <a href="#Page_67">67-69</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Churchstoke, <a href="#Page_55">55</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Cilgerran, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_220">220</a>, <a href="#Page_221">221</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Clare, Gilbert de, <a href="#Page_169">169</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Clifford Castle, <a href="#Page_234">234</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Clifford, Jane de, <a href="#Page_234">234</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Clun, <a href="#Page_56">56-58</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Clungunford, <a href="#Page_60">60</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Clwyd, River, <a href="#Page_84">84</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Clynnogfawr, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>, <a href="#Page_118">118</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Cochwillan Woods, <a href="#Page_98">98</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Coity, <a href="#Page_179">179-180</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Coleridge, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_271">271</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Colwyn Bay, <a href="#Page_85">85</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Comus, <a href="#Page_8">8</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Concenn, <a href="#Page_76">76</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Conway, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_88">88-90</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Conway, River, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>, <a href="#Page_83">83</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Corbet, Captain, <a href="#Page_54">54</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Corbet, Sir Vincent, <a href="#Page_51">51</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Cormeilles, Abbey of, <a href="#Page_272">272</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Corris, <a href="#Page_152">152</a>, <a href="#Page_155">155</a>, <a href="#Page_157">157</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Corwen, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>, <a href="#Page_161">161</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Cothercott Hill, <a href="#Page_55">55</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Cothi, River, <a href="#Page_222">222</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Cound, <a href="#Page_38">38</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Cowbridge, <a href="#Page_173">173</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Cox, David, <a href="#Page_82">82</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Craven Arms, <a href="#Page_60">60</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Cressage, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>, <a href="#Page_39">39</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Criccieth, <a href="#Page_112">112-114</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Crogen, Battle of, <a href="#Page_68">68</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Cromwell, Oliver, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>, <a href="#Page_203">203</a>, <a href="#Page_243">243</a>, <a href="#Page_270">270</a>, <a href="#Page_271">271</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Cross Foxes, <a href="#Page_158">158</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Cross Houses, <a href="#Page_38">38</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Cwm Bychan, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Cwm Hir Abbey, <a href="#Page_139">139</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Cwmyoy, <a href="#Page_255">255</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Cymmer Abbey, <a href="#Page_126">126</a></li>
-
-<li class="ifrst">Dafydd ap Gwilym, <a href="#Page_147">147</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Dale, <a href="#Page_202">202</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Darby, Abraham, <a href="#Page_28">28</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Darwin, Charles, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_61">61</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Davy Gam, <a href="#Page_151">151</a>, <a href="#Page_152">152</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Dean, Forest of, <a href="#Page_143">143</a>, <a href="#Page_247">247</a>, <a href="#Page_262">262</a>, <a href="#Page_263">263</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Dee, River, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>, <a href="#Page_70">70</a>, <a href="#Page_74">74</a>, <a href="#Page_76">76</a>, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>, <a href="#Page_161">161</a>, <a href="#Page_162">162</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Deganwy, <a href="#Page_86">86-88</a>, <a href="#Page_106">106</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Derwydd Station, <a href="#Page_190">190</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Despensers, <a href="#Page_170">170</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Devereux, Penelope, <a href="#Page_200">200</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Devil’s Bridge, <a href="#Page_141">141</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Dinan, de, <a href="#Page_9">9</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Dinas Bran, <a href="#Page_70">70</a>, <a href="#Page_71">71</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Dinas Mawddy, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>, <a href="#Page_133">133</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Dinmore Hill, <a href="#Page_236">236</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Dolbadarn, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>, <a href="#Page_105">105</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Doldowlod Woods, <a href="#Page_230">230</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Dolgelley, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>, <a href="#Page_152">152</a>, <a href="#Page_155">155</a>, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>, <a href="#Page_159">159</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Dolwyddelan, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>, <a href="#Page_93">93</a>, <a href="#Page_94">94</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Dore, River, <a href="#Page_235">235</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Dryslwyn Castle, <a href="#Page_190">190</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Dubritius, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>, <a href="#Page_240">240</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Dulas, River, <a href="#Page_157">157</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Dunraven, <a href="#Page_177">177</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Dwryd, River, <a href="#Page_118">118</a>, <a href="#Page_119">119</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Dyfi (Dovey), River, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>, <a href="#Page_149">149</a>, <a href="#Page_152">152-155</a>, <a href="#Page_157">157</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Dynevor, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_188">188</a>, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>, <a href="#Page_190">190</a></li>
-
-<li class="ifrst">Eaton Constantine, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_44">44</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Edeyrnion, Vale of, <a href="#Page_77">77</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Edmund, Prince, <a href="#Page_6">6</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Edward the Black Prince, <a href="#Page_113">113</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Edward the Elder, <a href="#Page_264">264</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Edward I., <a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>, <a href="#Page_102">102</a>, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>, <a href="#Page_212">212</a>, <a href="#Page_236">236</a>, <a href="#Page_237">237</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Edward II., <a href="#Page_42">42</a>, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>, <a href="#Page_170">170</a>, <a href="#Page_182">182</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Edward IV., <a href="#Page_5">5</a>, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>, <a href="#Page_209">209</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Edward V., <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_7">7</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Egerton, Lady Alice, <a href="#Page_8">8</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Eglwyseg Rocks, <a href="#Page_70">70</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Elan Valley, <a href="#Page_227">227-230</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Eleanor, Queen, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>, <a href="#Page_212">212</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Elfreton, Henry de, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>, <a href="#Page_169">169</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Eliseg’s Pillar, <a href="#Page_76">76</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Elizabeth, Queen, <a href="#Page_89">89</a>, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_244">244</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Ellesmere, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_50">50</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Erbistock, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>, <a href="#Page_50">50</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Eric of the Bloody Axe, <a href="#Page_264">264</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Erwood, <a href="#Page_232">232</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Essex, Earl of, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>, <a href="#Page_200">200</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Ethelbert, King, <a href="#Page_238">238</a>, <a href="#Page_239">239</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Ethelfleda, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>, <a href="#Page_185">185</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Ewenny, <a href="#Page_173">173</a>, <a href="#Page_178">178</a>, <a href="#Page_179">179</a>, <a href="#Page_195">195</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Ewer, Colonel, <a href="#Page_270">270</a>, <a href="#Page_271">271</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Ewyas, Vale of, <a href="#Page_247">247</a>, <a href="#Page_255">255-259</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Exmoor, <a href="#Page_173">173</a>, <a href="#Page_177">177</a></li>
-
-<li class="ifrst">Fairbourne, <a href="#Page_155">155</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Fairfax, General, <a href="#Page_203">203</a>, <a href="#Page_252">252</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Fair Rosamund, <a href="#Page_234">234</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Feathers Hotel, Ludlow, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>, <a href="#Page_5">5</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Fishguard, <a href="#Page_217">217</a>, <a href="#Page_218">218</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Fitz-Osborne, Roger, <a href="#Page_268">268</a>, <a href="#Page_269">269</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Fitz-Osborne, William, <a href="#Page_268">268</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Fitz-Warines, <a href="#Page_64">64</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Flemings, <a href="#Page_140">140</a>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>, <a href="#Page_209">209</a>, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>, <a href="#Page_226">226</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Flint, <a href="#Page_85">85</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Fuller, Thomas, <a href="#Page_48">48</a></li>
-
-<li class="ifrst">Ganllwyd, Vale of, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Geirionydd, Lake, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_149">149</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Geoffrey of Monmouth, <a href="#Page_249">249</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">George IV., <a href="#Page_243">243</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Gildas, <a href="#Page_175">175</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Gilpin, <a href="#Page_242">242</a>, <a href="#Page_266">266</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Giraldus Cambrensis, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>, <a href="#Page_102">102</a>, <a href="#Page_118">118</a>, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>, <a href="#Page_198">198</a>, <a href="#Page_209">209</a>, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>, <a href="#Page_253">253</a>, <a href="#Page_254">254</a>, <a href="#Page_258">258</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Glamorganshire, <a href="#Page_173">173</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Glan Dovey, <a href="#Page_150">150</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Glasbury, <a href="#Page_232">232</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Glaslyn, River, <a href="#Page_109">109</a>, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>, <a href="#Page_118">118</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Gloucester, <a href="#Page_259">259</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Glydyrs, <a href="#Page_97">97</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Glyn Ceiriog, <a href="#Page_68">68</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Glyndwr, Owen, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>, <a href="#Page_74">74</a>, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>, <a href="#Page_98">98</a>, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>, <a href="#Page_106">106</a>, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>, <a href="#Page_140">140</a>, <a href="#Page_143">143</a>, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>, <a href="#Page_150">150-152</a>, <a href="#Page_191">191</a>, <a href="#Page_192">192</a>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>, <a href="#Page_226">226</a>, <a href="#Page_233">233</a>, <a href="#Page_234">234</a>, <a href="#Page_261">261</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Glyndyffws, Pass of, <a href="#Page_78">78</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Glyndyfrdwy, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_78">78</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Glyn-Neath, <a href="#Page_183">183</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Gobowen, <a href="#Page_64">64</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Godiva, <a href="#Page_41">41</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Godstow, <a href="#Page_234">234</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Golden Valley, <a href="#Page_235">235</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Goodrich, <a href="#Page_244">244</a>, <a href="#Page_245">245</a>, <a href="#Page_246">246</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Goodrich, Vicar of, <a href="#Page_251">251</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Goodwick, <a href="#Page_217">217</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Gower, <a href="#Page_192">192</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Gower, Bishop, <a href="#Page_199">199</a>, <a href="#Page_212">212</a>, <a href="#Page_213">213</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Grey, Lord, of Ruthin, <a href="#Page_106">106</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Griffith ap Cynan, <a href="#Page_155">155</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Griffith Gryg, <a href="#Page_147">147</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Griffith ap Llewelyn, <a href="#Page_113">113</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Griffith ap Nicholas, <a href="#Page_187">187</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Griffith, Prince of Gwynedd, <a href="#Page_87">87</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Griffith, Prince of South Wales, <a href="#Page_219">219</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Grosmont, <a href="#Page_260">260</a>, <a href="#Page_261">261</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Guinevere, <a href="#Page_166">166</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Gwaelod, Plain of, <a href="#Page_123">123</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Gwenllian, daughter of the Lord Rhys, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>, <a href="#Page_195">195</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Gwenllian, mother of the Lord Rhys, <a href="#Page_195">195</a>, <a href="#Page_214">214</a>, <a href="#Page_219">219</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Gwyddno Longshanks, <a href="#Page_124">124</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Gwydir, <a href="#Page_91">91</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Gwynedd, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_118">118</a>, <a href="#Page_154">154</a>, <a href="#Page_220">220</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Gwynne, Nell, <a href="#Page_69">69</a></li>
-
-<li class="ifrst">Hanmer, <a href="#Page_49">49</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Harlech, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_119">119-122</a>, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Harley, Lady, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Harold, King, <a href="#Page_98">98</a>, <a href="#Page_237">237</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Haughmond Abbey, <a href="#Page_36">36-38</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Haughmond Hill, <a href="#Page_34">34</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Haverfordwest, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>, <a href="#Page_208">208-210</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Hawkestone, <a href="#Page_35">35</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Hay, <a href="#Page_62">62</a>, <a href="#Page_232">232-234</a>, <a href="#Page_235">235</a>, <a href="#Page_246">246</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Hazlitt, William, <a href="#Page_22">22</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Heber, Bishop, <a href="#Page_36">36</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Henllan Woods, <a href="#Page_221">221</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Henry I., <a href="#Page_42">42</a>, <a href="#Page_209">209</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Henry II., <a href="#Page_37">37</a>, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>, <a href="#Page_212">212</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Henry III., <a href="#Page_37">37</a>, <a href="#Page_233">233</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Henry IV., <a href="#Page_20">20</a>, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>, <a href="#Page_192">192</a>, <a href="#Page_245">245</a>, <a href="#Page_260">260</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Henry V., <a href="#Page_34">34</a>, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>, <a href="#Page_143">143</a>, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>, <a href="#Page_152">152</a>, <a href="#Page_245">245</a>, <a href="#Page_247">247</a>, <a href="#Page_248">248</a>, <a href="#Page_260">260</a>, <a href="#Page_261">261</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Henry VII., <a href="#Page_13">13</a>, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>, <a href="#Page_202">202</a>, <a href="#Page_206">206</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Henry VIII., <a href="#Page_37">37</a>, <a href="#Page_172">172</a>, <a href="#Page_182">182</a>, <a href="#Page_213">213-14</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Herbert, George, <a href="#Page_53">53</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Herbert, Lord, of Chirbury, <a href="#Page_52">52-54</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Hereford, <a href="#Page_143">143</a>, <a href="#Page_225">225</a>, <a href="#Page_226">226</a>, <a href="#Page_235">235</a>, <a href="#Page_236">236-239</a>, <a href="#Page_243">243</a>, <a href="#Page_246">246</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Hereford, Archdeacon of, <a href="#Page_192">192</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Herefordshire, <a href="#Page_232">232</a>, <a href="#Page_235">235</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Hirwain, <a href="#Page_183">183</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Hodnet, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>, <a href="#Page_36">36</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Holyhead Road, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_161">161</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Holy Mountain, <a href="#Page_247">247</a>, <a href="#Page_252">252</a>, <a href="#Page_255">255</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Honddu, River, <a href="#Page_255">255</a>, <a href="#Page_257">257</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Hookagate, <a href="#Page_55">55</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Hope Valley, <a href="#Page_56">56</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Hotspur, Harry, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>, <a href="#Page_89">89</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Howel y Fwyall, <a href="#Page_113">113</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Howel Sele, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>, <a href="#Page_128">128</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Huntsham Ferry, <a href="#Page_245">245</a></li>
-
-<li class="ifrst">Inigo Jones, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>, <a href="#Page_83">83</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Iolo Goch, <a href="#Page_74">74</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Iorwerth, <a href="#Page_93">93</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Ireland, <a href="#Page_121">121</a>, <a href="#Page_215">215</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Ironbridge, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>, <a href="#Page_45">45</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Isabella, Queen, <a href="#Page_237">237</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Ivetsey Bank, <a href="#Page_33">33</a></li>
-
-<li class="ifrst">James I., <a href="#Page_247">247</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">James II., <a href="#Page_17">17</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Jeffreys, Judge, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_47">47</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Jeremy Taylor, <a href="#Page_271">271</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Joan, Queen, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>, <a href="#Page_101">101</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">John, King, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>, <a href="#Page_98">98</a>, <a href="#Page_106">106</a>, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>, <a href="#Page_237">237</a>, <a href="#Page_263">263</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">John of Gaunt, <a href="#Page_212">212</a>, <a href="#Page_237">237</a>, <a href="#Page_247">247</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Johnson, Dr., <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_98">98</a></li>
-
-<li class="ifrst">Katherine of Arragon, <a href="#Page_6">6</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Kenfig, <a href="#Page_180">180</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Kemys, Sir Nicholas, <a href="#Page_270">270</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Kentchurch, <a href="#Page_261">261</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Kidwelly, <a href="#Page_174">174</a>, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>, <a href="#Page_195">195</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Kilgerran, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_220">220</a>, <a href="#Page_221">221</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Kingsley, Charles, <a href="#Page_109">109</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Knighton, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>, <a href="#Page_137">137</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Kymin, The, <a href="#Page_245">245</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Kyrle, John, <a href="#Page_240">240-242</a></li>
-
-<li class="ifrst">Lacy, Roger de, <a href="#Page_9">9</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Lacy, William de, <a href="#Page_256">256-259</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Lampeter, <a href="#Page_221">221</a>, <a href="#Page_222">222</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Lamphey Palace, <a href="#Page_199">199</a>, <a href="#Page_200">200</a>, <a href="#Page_213">213</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Landor, Walter Savage, <a href="#Page_259">259</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Laud, Archbishop, <a href="#Page_271">271</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Ledbury, <a href="#Page_235">235</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Leicester, Earl of, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>, <a href="#Page_91">91</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Leighton-under-the-Wrekin, <a href="#Page_27">27</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Leintwardine, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Leland, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>, <a href="#Page_70">70</a>, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>, <a href="#Page_146">146</a>, <a href="#Page_169">169</a>, <a href="#Page_177">177</a>, <a href="#Page_181">181</a>, <a href="#Page_192">192</a>, <a href="#Page_198">198</a>, <a href="#Page_202">202</a>, <a href="#Page_211">211</a>, <a href="#Page_232">232</a>, <a href="#Page_237">237</a>, <a href="#Page_268">268</a>, <a href="#Page_272">272</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Leofric of Mercia, <a href="#Page_41">41</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Leominster, <a href="#Page_235">235</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Letton, <a href="#Page_234">234</a>, <a href="#Page_236">236</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Lewis, Rev. Edward, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>, <a href="#Page_54">54</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Little Doward, <a href="#Page_245">245</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Little Stretton, <a href="#Page_12">12</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Liverpool Reservoir, <a href="#Page_161">161</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llanaellraiarn, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_117">117</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llanbadarn Fawr, <a href="#Page_148">148</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llanbedr, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>, <a href="#Page_125">125</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llanberis, Pass of, <a href="#Page_94">94</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>, <a href="#Page_109">109</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llanberis, Town, <a href="#Page_105">105</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llandaff, <a href="#Page_171">171-173</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llandeilo, <a href="#Page_188">188</a>, <a href="#Page_190">190</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llandinam, <a href="#Page_139">139</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llandogo, <a href="#Page_265">265</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llandovery, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_222">222</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llandrindod Wells, <a href="#Page_231">231</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llandysilio, <a href="#Page_102">102</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llandyssil, <a href="#Page_221">221</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llanelltyd, <a href="#Page_126">126</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llanfaes, <a href="#Page_101">101</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llanfair Caereinion, <a href="#Page_133">133</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llanfair P. G., <a href="#Page_100">100</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llanfihangel Crucorney, <a href="#Page_255">255</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llanfrother, <a href="#Page_240">240</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llanfyllin, <a href="#Page_161">161</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llangadfan, <a href="#Page_133">133</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llangadoch, <a href="#Page_188">188</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llangollen, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>, <a href="#Page_70">70-73</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llangollen, Ladies of, <a href="#Page_71">71-73</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llangurig, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>, <a href="#Page_140">140</a>, <a href="#Page_226">226</a>, <a href="#Page_227">227</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llanidloes, <a href="#Page_139">139</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llanrhaiadr, <a href="#Page_159">159</a>, <a href="#Page_162">162</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llanrhychwyn, <a href="#Page_90">90</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llanrwst, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>, <a href="#Page_83">83</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llanthony, <a href="#Page_247">247</a>, <a href="#Page_249">249</a>, <a href="#Page_255">255-259</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llanthony, Second Priory of, <a href="#Page_259">259</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llantwit Major, <a href="#Page_166">166</a>, <a href="#Page_173">173</a>, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>, <a href="#Page_216">216</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llanwrtyd Wells, <a href="#Page_222">222</a>, <a href="#Page_231">231</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llechryd, <a href="#Page_221">221</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Lledr Valley, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>, <a href="#Page_94">94</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llewelyn, the Great, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>, <a href="#Page_113">113</a>, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>, <a href="#Page_233">233</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llewelyn III., <a href="#Page_102">102</a>, <a href="#Page_106">106</a>, <a href="#Page_231">231</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Lleyn Peninsula, <a href="#Page_111">111-118</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llugwy, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llyfnant Valley, <a href="#Page_150">150</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llyn Dinas, <a href="#Page_110">110</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llyn Gwynant, <a href="#Page_109">109</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llyn Mymbyr, <a href="#Page_108">108</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llyn Padarn, <a href="#Page_105">105</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llyn Peris, <a href="#Page_105">105</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llyn Tegid (Bala), <a href="#Page_162">162</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Llyswen, <a href="#Page_232">232</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Lockhart, <a href="#Page_72">72</a>, <a href="#Page_73">73</a>, <a href="#Page_108">108</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Londres, Maurice de, <a href="#Page_179">179</a>, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>, <a href="#Page_219">219</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Longden, <a href="#Page_55">55</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Lucy Waters, <a href="#Page_211">211</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Ludford, <a href="#Page_4">4</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Ludlow, <a href="#Page_4">4-10</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Lydstep, <a href="#Page_198">198</a></li>
-
-<li class="ifrst">Mabinogion, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>, <a href="#Page_167">167</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Machynlleth, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>, <a href="#Page_150">150-152</a>, <a href="#Page_155">155</a>, <a href="#Page_157">157</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Maddox, Mr., <a href="#Page_111">111</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Madeley, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_29">29</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Madoc, Prince of Powys, <a href="#Page_70">70</a>, <a href="#Page_73">73</a>, <a href="#Page_74">74</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Maelgwyn, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_106">106</a>, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>, <a href="#Page_154">154</a>, <a href="#Page_155">155</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Maentwrog, <a href="#Page_93">93</a>, <a href="#Page_94">94</a>, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Mallwyd, <a href="#Page_133">133</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Malvern Hills, <a href="#Page_245">245</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Manorbier Castle, <a href="#Page_197">197-199</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Marches, Court of the, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>, <a href="#Page_96">96</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Margam, <a href="#Page_180">180</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Market Drayton, <a href="#Page_36">36</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Marrington Dingle, <a href="#Page_55">55</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Marrington Hall, <a href="#Page_54">54</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Marshbrook, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>, <a href="#Page_55">55</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Marteg, River, <a href="#Page_227">227</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Marten, Sir Henry, <a href="#Page_271">271</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Marton, <a href="#Page_52">52</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Mary, Queen, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>, <a href="#Page_244">244</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Mathern, <a href="#Page_272">272</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Matholwch, King of Ireland, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>, <a href="#Page_121">121</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Matilda, Queen, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>, <a href="#Page_257">257</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Matthew of Westminster, <a href="#Page_239">239</a>, <a href="#Page_264">264</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Mawddach, River, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>, <a href="#Page_152">152</a>, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>, <a href="#Page_158">158</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Maxen Wledig, <a href="#Page_168">168</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Mellte, River, <a href="#Page_183">183</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Menai Bridge, <a href="#Page_99">99</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Menai Straits, <a href="#Page_99">99</a>, <a href="#Page_102">102</a>, <a href="#Page_103">103</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Menevia, <a href="#Page_216">216</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Meredyth ap Conan, <a href="#Page_119">119</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Merlin, <a href="#Page_192">192</a>, <a href="#Page_216">216</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Milburga, Princess, <a href="#Page_39">39-41</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Milford Haven, <a href="#Page_200">200</a>, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Milton, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>, <a href="#Page_138">138</a>, <a href="#Page_162">162</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Minsterley, <a href="#Page_56">56</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Mochras, Point of, <a href="#Page_124">124</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Moel Offrwm, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Mona, <a href="#Page_100">100-102</a>, <a href="#Page_121">121</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Monmouth, <a href="#Page_243">243</a>, <a href="#Page_246">246-249</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Monmouth, Duke of, <a href="#Page_211">211</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Monnington, <a href="#Page_234">234</a>, <a href="#Page_261">261</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Monnow, River, <a href="#Page_261">261</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Montfort Bridge, <a href="#Page_61">61</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Montfort, Simon de, <a href="#Page_236">236</a>, <a href="#Page_237">237</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Montgomery, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>, <a href="#Page_54">54</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Montgomery, Arnulph de, <a href="#Page_201">201</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Montgomery, Roger de, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>, <a href="#Page_41">41</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Morfa Nevin, <a href="#Page_114">114</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Morfa Rhuddlan, <a href="#Page_84">84</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Mortimer, Edmund, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_122">122</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Much Birch, <a href="#Page_240">240</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Much Wenlock, <a href="#Page_39">39-42</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Mumbles, The, <a href="#Page_180">180</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Murchard, Prince of Leinster, <a href="#Page_215">215</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Myddleton, Sir Thomas, <a href="#Page_69">69</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Myfanwy, Princess, <a href="#Page_71">71</a>, <a href="#Page_74">74</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Mynach, River, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>, <a href="#Page_142">142</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Mytton, General, <a href="#Page_89">89</a></li>
-
-<li class="ifrst">Nannau, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>, <a href="#Page_128">128</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Nant Ffrancon, <a href="#Page_94">94</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_97">97</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Nantgarw, <a href="#Page_170">170</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Nant Gwynant, <a href="#Page_94">94</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_109">109</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Naseby, Battle of, <a href="#Page_250">250</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Neath, <a href="#Page_173">173</a>, <a href="#Page_181">181</a>, <a href="#Page_182">182</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Neath, River, <a href="#Page_181">181</a>, <a href="#Page_182">182</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Neath, Vale of, <a href="#Page_182">182</a>, <a href="#Page_183">183</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Nelson, Lord, <a href="#Page_193">193</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Nennius, <a href="#Page_191">191</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Nest, Princess, <a href="#Page_202">202</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Neuf-Marché, Bernard de, <a href="#Page_185">185-187</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Nevern, <a href="#Page_218">218</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Nevin, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>, <a href="#Page_115">115</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Newbridge, <a href="#Page_230">230</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Newcastle Emlyn, <a href="#Page_221">221</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Newgale, <a href="#Page_211">211</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Newport, Mon., <a href="#Page_166">166</a>, <a href="#Page_168">168</a>, <a href="#Page_169">169</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Newport, Pembroke, <a href="#Page_218">218</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Newport, Salop, <a href="#Page_36">36</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Newtown, <a href="#Page_138">138</a>, <a href="#Page_225">225</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Nôn, <a href="#Page_216">216</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Northumberland, Earl of, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>, <a href="#Page_116">116</a></li>
-
-<li class="ifrst">Oakengates, <a href="#Page_33">33</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Offa, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>, <a href="#Page_238">238</a>, <a href="#Page_239">239</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Offa’s Dyke, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>, <a href="#Page_267">267</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Ogwen, Lake, <a href="#Page_96">96</a>, <a href="#Page_97">97</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Ogwen, River, <a href="#Page_98">98</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Onibury, <a href="#Page_10">10</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Onny, River, <a href="#Page_10">10</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Oswestry, <a href="#Page_62">62</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Oteley, <a href="#Page_51">51</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Overton, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_49">49</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Owen Gwynedd, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>, <a href="#Page_99">99</a>, <a href="#Page_195">195</a>, <a href="#Page_219">219</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Owen’s Mount, <a href="#Page_78">78</a></li>
-
-<li class="ifrst">Pant-y-Groes, <a href="#Page_73">73</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Parkend, <a href="#Page_263">263</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Payer, Colonel, <a href="#Page_203">203</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Pembroke, <a href="#Page_200">200-203</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Pembrokeshire, Coast of, <a href="#Page_204">204</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Penmaenmawr, <a href="#Page_100">100</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Pennal, <a href="#Page_153">153</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Pennant, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>, <a href="#Page_160">160</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Penrhyn Castle, <a href="#Page_98">98</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Penrhyndeudraeth, <a href="#Page_94">94</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Penrhyn Quarries, <a href="#Page_98">98</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Pentre Voelas, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>, <a href="#Page_92">92</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Pen-y-Groes, <a href="#Page_118">118</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Pen-y-Gwryd, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>, <a href="#Page_109">109</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Percy, Bishop, <a href="#Page_44">44</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Perrot, Sir John, <a href="#Page_206">206</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Peverels of the Peak, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>, <a href="#Page_64">64</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Piercefield Park, <a href="#Page_267">267</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Pistyll-y-Rhaiadr, <a href="#Page_162">162</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Plynlimmon, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>, <a href="#Page_140">140</a>, <a href="#Page_222">222</a>, <a href="#Page_225">225</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Ponsonby, Miss, <a href="#Page_71">71</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Pont Neath Fechan, <a href="#Page_183">183</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Pontrhydfendigaidmynachlogfawr, <a href="#Page_100">100</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Pont-y-Croes, <a href="#Page_118">118</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Pont-y-Cysylltau, <a href="#Page_70">70</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Pont-y-Pair, <a href="#Page_82">82</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Pope, <a href="#Page_240">240</a>, <a href="#Page_241">241</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Porth Clais, <a href="#Page_216">216</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Portmadoc, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_118">118</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Pumpsaint, <a href="#Page_222">222</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Pwllheli, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_113">113</a>, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>, <a href="#Page_117">117</a></li>
-
-<li class="ifrst">Queen’s Head Inn, <a href="#Page_62">62</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Quendritha, Queen, <a href="#Page_239">239</a></li>
-
-<li class="ifrst">Raglan, <a href="#Page_247">247</a>, <a href="#Page_249">249-252</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Ranulph of Normandy, <a href="#Page_237">237</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Ratlinghope, <a href="#Page_55">55</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Redbrook, <a href="#Page_265">265</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Rhayader, <a href="#Page_191">191</a>, <a href="#Page_227">227-230</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Rheiddol, River, <a href="#Page_142">142</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Rhianedd, Marsh of, <a href="#Page_107">107</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Rhuddlan, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>, <a href="#Page_83">83-85</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Rhyl, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_114">114</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Rhys, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>, <a href="#Page_146">146</a>, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>, <a href="#Page_195">195</a>, <a href="#Page_214">214</a>, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>, <a href="#Page_220">220</a>, <a href="#Page_228">228</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Rhys ap Thomas, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>, <a href="#Page_206">206</a>, <a href="#Page_207">207</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Rhysgog Hill, <a href="#Page_77">77</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Richard II., <a href="#Page_85">85</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_209">209</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Richard’s Castle, <a href="#Page_235">235</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Ridgeway, The, <a href="#Page_197">197</a>, <a href="#Page_199">199</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Rivals, The, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_117">117</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Robert of Normandy, <a href="#Page_171">171</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Robert of Rhuddlan, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_106">106</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Roche Castle, <a href="#Page_210">210</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Roderic the Great, <a href="#Page_188">188</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Roman Gravels, <a href="#Page_56">56</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Roman Steps, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Ross, <a href="#Page_240">240-243</a>, <a href="#Page_246">246</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Royal Oak, <a href="#Page_31">31</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Royal Oak Hotel, Bettws, <a href="#Page_82">82</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Royal Oak Inn, Fishguard, <a href="#Page_218">218</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Rupert, Prince, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>, <a href="#Page_50">50</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Ruskin, <a href="#Page_73">73</a></li>
-
-<li class="ifrst">Sabrina, <a href="#Page_138">138</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">St. Alkmund’s, Shrewsbury, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>, <a href="#Page_16">16</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">St. Alkmund’s, Whitchurch, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>, <a href="#Page_48">48</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">St. Arvan’s, <a href="#Page_267">267</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">St. Beuno, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>, <a href="#Page_118">118</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">St. Briavel’s, <a href="#Page_263">263</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">St. Brynach, Cross of, <a href="#Page_218">218</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">St. Chad’s (New), Shrewsbury, <a href="#Page_22">22</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">St. Chad’s (Old), Shrewsbury, <a href="#Page_16">16</a>, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>, <a href="#Page_21">21</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">St. Collen’s, Llangollen, <a href="#Page_73">73</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">St. David, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>, <a href="#Page_216">216</a>, <a href="#Page_240">240</a>, <a href="#Page_256">256</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">St. David’s, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>, <a href="#Page_210">210</a>, <a href="#Page_211">211</a>, <a href="#Page_217">217</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">St. Deiniol, <a href="#Page_99">99</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">St. Donat’s, <a href="#Page_173">173</a>, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>, <a href="#Page_177">177</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">St. Germanus, <a href="#Page_191">191</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">St. Illtyd, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>, <a href="#Page_176">176</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">St. Mary’s, Shrewsbury, <a href="#Page_16">16</a>, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>, <a href="#Page_18">18</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">St. Padarn, <a href="#Page_148">148</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">St. Patrick, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>, <a href="#Page_216">216</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">St. Peter’s, Carmarthen, <a href="#Page_193">193</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">St. Samson, <a href="#Page_176">176</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">St. Teilo, <a href="#Page_171">171</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">St. Tewdric, <a href="#Page_272">272</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Scott, Sir Walter, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>, <a href="#Page_72">72</a>, <a href="#Page_108">108</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Scudamore, Alice, <a href="#Page_261">261</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Seisyllts (Cecils), <a href="#Page_253">253</a>, <a href="#Page_254">254</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Seithenyn, <a href="#Page_124">124</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Severn, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>, <a href="#Page_25">25</a>, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>, <a href="#Page_226">226</a>, <a href="#Page_265">265</a>, <a href="#Page_267">267</a>, <a href="#Page_272">272</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Siabod, Moel, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_93">93</a>, <a href="#Page_96">96</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Sidney, Ambrozia, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>, <a href="#Page_9">9</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Sidney, Philip, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>, <a href="#Page_200">200</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Sidney, Sir Henry, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>, <a href="#Page_20">20</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Shelley, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>, <a href="#Page_230">230</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Shelley, Harriet, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>, <a href="#Page_230">230</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Shelton Oak, <a href="#Page_61">61</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Shifnal, <a href="#Page_29">29</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Shrewsbury, <a href="#Page_12">12-24</a>, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_60">60</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Shrewsbury Abbey, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>, <a href="#Page_22">22-24</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Shrewsbury, Battle of, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_43">43</a> <a href="#Page_61">61</a>, <a href="#Page_191">191</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Shrewsbury Castle, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>, <a href="#Page_21">21</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Shropshire, <a href="#Page_1">1-64</a>, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>, <a href="#Page_162">162</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Skenfrith, <a href="#Page_260">260</a>, <a href="#Page_262">262</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Skirrid Fawr, <a href="#Page_255">255</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Snowdon, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_96">96</a>, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>, <a href="#Page_109">109</a>, <a href="#Page_122">122</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Snowdonia, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>, <a href="#Page_94">94</a>, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>, <a href="#Page_111">111</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Solva, <a href="#Page_211">211</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Southerndown, <a href="#Page_177">177</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Southey, <a href="#Page_259">259</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Speech House, <a href="#Page_263">263</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Spenser, <a href="#Page_243">243</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Stack Rocks, <a href="#Page_204">204</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Steele, Richard, <a href="#Page_193">193</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Stephen, King, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>, <a href="#Page_37">37</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Stokesay Castle, <a href="#Page_10">10</a>, <a href="#Page_11">11</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Strata Florida, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>, <a href="#Page_145">145-148</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Strongbow, Richard, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>, <a href="#Page_269">269</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Sugar Loaf Mountain, <a href="#Page_255">255</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Swallow Falls, <a href="#Page_95">95</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Swift, Dean, <a href="#Page_47">47</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Sycharth, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_78">78</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Symond’s Yat, <a href="#Page_226">226</a>, <a href="#Page_245">245</a>, <a href="#Page_246">246</a>, <a href="#Page_264">264</a></li>
-
-<li class="ifrst">Talbot, 1st Earl of Shrewsbury, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>, <a href="#Page_245">245</a>, <a href="#Page_260">260</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Taliesin, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>, <a href="#Page_149">149</a>, <a href="#Page_175">175</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Tal-y-Bont, <a href="#Page_149">149</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Tan-y-Bwlch, <a href="#Page_94">94</a>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Tal-y-Llyn, <a href="#Page_155">155</a>, <a href="#Page_158">158</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Teify, River, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>, <a href="#Page_220">220</a>, <a href="#Page_221">221</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Telford, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>, <a href="#Page_99">99</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Teme, River, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>, <a href="#Page_137">137</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Tenby, <a href="#Page_178">178</a>, <a href="#Page_195">195-197</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Tintern, <a href="#Page_225">225</a>, <a href="#Page_226">226</a>, <a href="#Page_246">246</a>, <a href="#Page_247">247</a>, <a href="#Page_265">265-267</a>, <a href="#Page_272">272</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Tintern Parva, <a href="#Page_265">265</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Tomen-y-Bala, <a href="#Page_160">160</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Tong, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_30">30</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Tostig, <a href="#Page_237">237</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Towy, River, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_188">188</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Towyn, <a href="#Page_155">155</a>, <a href="#Page_156">156</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Traeth Maelgwyn, <a href="#Page_154">154</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Traeth Mawr, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>, <a href="#Page_118">118</a>, <a href="#Page_119">119</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Trawscoed, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>, <a href="#Page_148">148</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Trawsfynydd, <a href="#Page_129">129</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Trecastle, <a href="#Page_187">187</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Trefriew, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>, <a href="#Page_91">91</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Tremadoc, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>, <a href="#Page_118">118</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Tre-Taliesin, <a href="#Page_149">149</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Tryfaen, <a href="#Page_97">97</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Tudor, Edmund, <a href="#Page_214">214</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Tudor, Jasper, <a href="#Page_172">172</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Tudor, Owen, <a href="#Page_237">237</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Tyn-y-Groes, <a href="#Page_129">129</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Tyn-y-Nant, <a href="#Page_79">79</a></li>
-
-<li class="ifrst">Upper Corris, <a href="#Page_158">158</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Upper Wye, <a href="#Page_226">226</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Uriconium, <a href="#Page_25">25</a>, <a href="#Page_26">26</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Usk, River, <a href="#Page_166">166</a>, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_254">254</a></li>
-
-<li class="ifrst">Valle Crucis, <a href="#Page_71">71</a>, <a href="#Page_73">73-76</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Vaughan, Dean, Tomb of, <a href="#Page_173">173</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Vaughans of Dunraven, <a href="#Page_178">178</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Vernon, Dorothy, <a href="#Page_30">30</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Vernon, Sir Henry, <a href="#Page_30">30</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Vickers, Dick, <a href="#Page_79">79</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Vortigern, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>, <a href="#Page_191">191</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Vyrnwy, Lake, <a href="#Page_161">161</a></li>
-
-<li class="ifrst">Wales, Mid, <a href="#Page_137">137-162</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Wales, North, <a href="#Page_67">67-134</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Wales, South, <a href="#Page_165">165-222</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Walpole, Horace, <a href="#Page_52">52</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Walton, Isaac, <a href="#Page_54">54</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Warwick, Dowager Lady, <a href="#Page_69">69</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Watling Street, <a href="#Page_33">33</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Watt, James, <a href="#Page_230">230</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Wellington, <a href="#Page_33">33</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Welshpool, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>, <a href="#Page_134">134</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Wem, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_47">47</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Wenlock Priory, <a href="#Page_38">38-42</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Westbury, <a href="#Page_52">52</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Whitchurch, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_47">47</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Whitney, <a href="#Page_234">234</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Whittington, <a href="#Page_62">62-64</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Widemarsh, Hereford, <a href="#Page_236">236</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">William I., <a href="#Page_212">212</a>, <a href="#Page_268">268</a>, <a href="#Page_269">269</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">William II., <a href="#Page_212">212</a>, <a href="#Page_215">215</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">William of Malmesbury, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>, <a href="#Page_257">257</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Wilton, <a href="#Page_243">243</a>, <a href="#Page_244">244</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Windsor, Gerald de, <a href="#Page_201">201</a>, <a href="#Page_205">205</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Wnion, River, <a href="#Page_126">126</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Worcester, 2nd Earl of, <a href="#Page_272">272</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Worcester, 1st Marquis of, <a href="#Page_251">251</a>, <a href="#Page_252">252</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Worthen, <a href="#Page_52">52</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Wrekin, <a href="#Page_12">12</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Wroxeter, <a href="#Page_25">25</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Wyaston Leys, <a href="#Page_245">245</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Wye, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>, <a href="#Page_140">140</a>, <a href="#Page_222">222</a>, <a href="#Page_226">226</a>, <a href="#Page_265">265</a>, <a href="#Page_268">268</a>, <a href="#Page_272">272</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Wye, Valley of the, <a href="#Page_225">225-272</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Wyndcliff, <a href="#Page_267">267</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Wynnes of Gwydir, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>, <a href="#Page_89">89</a>, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_96">96</a></li>
-
-<li class="ifrst">York, Archbishop of, <a href="#Page_89">89</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">York, Richard Duke of, <a href="#Page_22">22</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Yr Eifl, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_117">117</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Ysgubor-y-coed, <a href="#Page_150">150</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Ystradfflur, <a href="#Page_145">145-148</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Ystwith, River, <a href="#Page_145">145</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Y Wyddfa, <a href="#Page_107">107</a></li>
-</ul>
-
-<p class="center small">UNWIN BROTHERS, LIMITED, PRINTERS, WOKING AND LONDON.
-</p>
-
-<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_1" id="Footnote_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Latin inscription on the wall that used to surround the
-tree.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Duke’s Version.</span></p></div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_2" id="Footnote_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> Since these words were written there have been extensive
-excavations at Haughmond, by which important
-disclosures have been made.</p></div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_3" id="Footnote_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> Transactions of the Archæological Society of Shropshire.</p></div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_4" id="Footnote_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> Transactions of the Archæological Society of Shropshire.</p></div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_5" id="Footnote_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> <i>Gentleman’s Magazine</i>, August, 1906.</p></div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_6" id="Footnote_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> “The History of Fulk Fitz-Warine,” translated by
-Alice Kemp-Welch.</p></div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_7" id="Footnote_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> I have seen somewhere that the original name of these
-falls was not Rhaiadr y Wennol, or Swallow Falls, but
-Rhaiadr Eweynol, or Foaming Falls. This seems probable:
-but Borrow accepted the former version, and he was a stern
-critic in such matters.</p></div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_8" id="Footnote_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> Quotations from the “Mabinogion” are from Lady
-Charlotte Guest’s translation.</p></div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_9" id="Footnote_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> <i>Sic.</i></p></div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_10" id="Footnote_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> “The Book of South Wales,” by the Rev. S. Baring-Gould.</p></div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_11" id="Footnote_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> “The March and Borderland of Wales,” by A. G.
-Bradley.</p></div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_12" id="Footnote_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> Rev. S. Baring-Gould, “The Book of South Wales.”</p></div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_13" id="Footnote_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> “The Norman Horse-shoe” (Sir Walter Scott.)</p></div></div>
-
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<hr />
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<div class="transnote"><h3>Transcriber's Note:</h3>
-
-<p>Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as
-possible, including some inconsistencies in hyphenation. Some minor
-corrections of spelling have been made.</p></div>
-
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<hr class="full" />
-<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOTOR TOURS IN WALES &amp; THE BORDER COUNTIES***</p>
-<p>******* This file should be named 53152-h.htm or 53152-h.zip *******</p>
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