In descending the hill to Newgin, the dark lowering rocks, which form that fine Bay, called St. Bride’s, exhibited a grand prospect. In the centre of this Bay is situated Newgin, bounded on the South by the Island of Skomar, and on the North by Ramsay. The fields adjacent to this place have been frequently inundated, by extraordinary overflowings of the sea: at the reflux of the tide, the sands admit of most excellent walking.
The saunter from hence to the City of
ST. DAVIDS,
now properly deserving the name of a Village, was rather more captivating than our walk before breakfast: it was occasionally enlivened by the prospect of the wide ocean, boundless to our view on one side, whilst before us the fantastic shapes of the rocks off St. David’s Head, exhibited Nature, in her most awful and striking attitudes. Above the rest, Caern Thydy lifted its bold promontory, as if to give effect to the rude landscape. About half way between Newgin and St. Davids, the beautiful little Village of Solva unexpectedly burst upon our view; studded with neat white-washed cottages, and enclosed on each side with lofty rocks, which here form a picturesque and interesting chasm. These rocks, indeed, I could almost imagine, were torn asunder by some convulsive rent of the earth. The Cathedral, and dilapidated ruins of the episcopal Palace, are situated at the bottom of a steep hill, and scarcely visible in the town: these, and the prebendal houses, were formerly enclosed by a strong stone wall, with four gates, computed at eleven hundred yards in circuit. David, [51] the national saint of Wales, with the consent of King Arthur, is said to have removed the Metropolitan See from Cær Lleon to Menevia, which has ever since been called Ty Dewi, by the Welch, and St. David, by the English. What was the condition and extent of this town formerly, is difficult to say, having been so frequently destroyed. At present it is a very small city, and has nothing to boast, but its ruined palace, and old cathedral, dedicated to St. Andrew and St. David, which has often been demolished, but rebuilt, in its present form, by Bishop Peter, according to Giraldus, in the reign of Henry II. or as Willis, 1110, in Rhos Vale, below the town. It is still esteemed a noble pile, consisting of two transepts, measuring in length, from East to West, three hundred feet, and the body, with the aisles, seventy-six feet broad.
“Behind the choir is a most beautiful chapel, with a rich roof of carved stone, built by Vaughan, in the time of Henry VIII. as a kind of presbytery, between the choir and Lady chapel. In the last, whose roof, as well as those of the ailes of the choir and transepts, have been down ever since the civil war, are monuments for three bishops, and in the nave, &c. four or five more. In the North wall of the choir is the shrine of St. David, a kind of altar tomb, with a canopy of four pointed arches, and in front four quatrefoil holes, into which the votaries put their offerings, which were taken out by the Monks at two iron doors behind. In the choir are also the monuments of Owen Tudor, second husband of Queen Catharine, Rhys ap Tudor, [52a] Bishops Jorwerth and Anselm, in the 13th century, and Edmund Earl of Richmond, father of Henry VII. This last monument is said to have prevented Henry VIII. from removing the see to Caermarthen. Giraldus Cambrensis, who was Archdeacon of Brecon, canon of Hereford, and Rector of Chesterton, Oxford, was buried here 1213. [52b] On the North side of the church are some walls of St. Mary’s College, founded by Bishop Houghton, and John of Gaunt, 1365, valued at 106l. per annum.” [52c]
It is much to be regretted, that so little regard has been paid to the internal appearance of this noble pile; the whole of it has lately been white-washed, which gives it too much the air of a modern building: the external part, I am sorry to add, has been equally neglected; and the chapels and monuments exposed to the wanton mischief of boys and idle people. The West front of the Cathedral has very lately been repaired by a Mr. Nash, [53] who has endeavoured, with bad success, to imitate the beautiful circular window remaining in the ruins of the Bishop’s Palace. The stone, likewise, with which it is built, is of so soft a substance, that it even moulders with the touch of the finger; but possibly it may, by being exposed to the air, like the Bath stone, become more solid; and, when by time it shall have acquired a darker hue, may then better correspond with the original building.
The Bishop’s Palace now stands a monument of desolation;—and as we walked over the loose fragments of stone, which are scattered through the immense area of the fabric, the images of former times rose to reflection,—when the spacious hall stood proudly in their original splendour; when the long ailes of the chapel were only responsive to the solemn, slow-breathed chaunt. In this Palace is a very long room, purposely erected for the reception of King John: at the extremity of it is a circular window, of very elegant and curious workmanship.
Giraldus gives us a true description of the county round St. Davids, representing it “as a stony, barren, unimprovable territory, undecked with woods, undivided by rivers, unadorned with meadows, exposed only to wind and storms.” Such, indeed, is the state and situation of St. Davids; and, the environs having no hedges to divide the property of the farmers, the sheep, and even the geese, are all tethered together.
The walk to St. David’s Head, though barren, represents a view striking and awful: sublimity gives place to elegance: yet what is it to view?—a boundless waste of ocean;—not a glimpse of smiling nature,—not a patch of vegetation, to relieve the aching sight, or vary the objects of admiration. The rocks on this shore, are shook into every possible shape of horror; and, in many parts, resemble the convulsions of an earthquake, splintered, shivered, and amassed. On these rocks stood the famous rocking stone, or Y mean sigl, which, “though twenty yoke of oxen could not move it, might be shaken with the slightest touch.” We understood it was thrown off its balance, by order of the farmer, to prevent the curious from trampling on his grounds. “A mile strait West from St. David’s, betwixt Portclais and Porthmaur,” [55] is the shell of Capel Stinen, St. Stinan’s, or St. Justinian’s Chapel.
From this spot is an extensive View of Whitsand Bay, called by the Welsh Porth Maur, or the Great Bay; in which stand the six Rocks, called The Bishop and his Clerks. Half a league from hence is