FISHGUARD
afforded us little room for observation; the eye, however, kept in view a wide range of the unbounded ocean; till, dim with exertion, it by degrees reposed on the dark lowering rocks, which, disregarding the angry roar of the waves, seemed to project their broad sides, to augment the idle tumult. Quitting the turnpike road, in search of the place where the French effected their landing, in the year 1797, we passed a neat house, called Caergwent, belonging to Mrs. Harris. The kind attentions of a farmer, in the neighbourhood of this memorable spot, claim our warmest acknowledgments. Having finished a most comfortable meal at Mr. Mortimer’s house (which, during the confusion, was considered the head-quarters of the French, commanded by General Tate), he explained all the minutiæ respecting this circumstance; and very obligingly pointed out the situation of their camp, and related many entertaining and interesting anecdotes. Deeply impressed with gratitude towards Mr. M. for his civilities, we soon arrived at Goodric sands. This spot was very judiciously selected by Lord Cawdor, as a proper place for the French to lay down their arms; for, had they resisted, a cannonade of grape-shot, from a neighbouring fortress, would have instantly played upon them. Fishguard stands on a steep rock, with a convenient harbour, formed by the river Gwain; though its situation and bay are interesting, it is by no means a desirable place to remain long at.
Several druidical monuments [90] engaged our attention, as we drew near