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 shaken 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,” [88] 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
RAMSEY ISLE,
half a mile long, and three quarters broad, and divided into two considerable farms. The whole island is well stocked with rabbits; and, during the spring, the Razorbill, Puffin, and Harry birds, resort here in flocks. It has undergone many changes from the continual wearing of the waves. There is a tradition, that the embarkation for Ireland anciently took place at Ramsey; but sailors doubt the truth of this circumstance, from the circumstances of the tides. Our walk from St. David’s to
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
NEWPORT,
called by Giraldus, Llanhever, or the Town on the river Nevern. The fragments of the castle are too insignificant to invite the curiosity of the passing traveller: it was demolished by Llewllyn, Prince of South Wales, when possessed by the Flemings.
The country beyond Newport presented a more pleasing countenance: wood, water, hill, and vale, all unite, even to induce the plodding citizen to pause, and wish to spend the evening of his days in the vicinity of its enchantment. In this interesting situation, we found the village of Velindre:—we here particularly observed the slaty quality of the hills, and could not avoid condemning the folly of the inhabitants of Velindre in building their cottages of mud, and sparingly covering them with straw, when nature herself seemed to place comforts, if not luxuries, before their view. But, perhaps, these reproaches were ill-grounded; for thus veiled in obscurity, they were happy, as they knew not enough of the world seriously to regret the want of these conveniences: their situation, indeed, seemed to verify the philosophical sentiment of Gray: