Near this fall is Porthogo Cavern, through which the river Vendre runs. The water was too high to admit our entrance; our conductor, however, informed us he had penetrated about half a mile, but found the river wind so many ways, he judged it safer to return, lest he should share the fate of a poor man, who lost himself in this cavern for the space of three days. On our return a very intelligent gentleman, staying in the neighbourhood, strenuously recommended us to descend a steep mountain, on our left, to survey a curious quadrangular strata of marble in the rock below. With some difficulty we effected our purpose, having waded twice through the river. This strata in Welsh is called bwr maen, which signifies a stone bow: it is situated close to the river Dynnas, which, forcing its way through some broken fragments of the rock, forms a cascade a little above. The price offered for this grey marble, in London, is fifteen shillings a foot square.
About five miles from Vechan, is the seat of Mrs. Holbrow, on the right. We were prevented visiting the waterfalls of Melincourt and Aperdulas, the river, owing to the late floods, being too deep to ford. Our route still continued through the valley we had so much admired the evening before. As we drew near
NEATH,
the tower of Knole Castle had a pleasing effect from a distance: it was built by Sir Herbert Mackworth, and is at present in the possession of H. I. Grant, Esq. The windows from the banqueting-room command a circle of many miles in diameter, composed of Neath valley and river, with the smoky town of Neath—the Mumbles’ Point—Swansea, and the Channel. The artificial cascade is well contrived; but, after the foaming torrents of Scotenogam and Culhepste, appears very tame.
The site of the refectory, the chapel, the hall, and several other rooms, in the ruins of Neath Abbey, may still be traced. It stands on the east of the river, and was formerly, by Leland’s account, the “fairest abbey of all Wales;” but in his Collectanea [50] he seems to give Margam the preference of all the Cistercian houses in these parts. It was founded for white monks, by Richard de Granville. About the time of its dissolution it contained only eight monks, and was valued at 132l. 7s. 7d. per annum. In this abbey the unfortunate King Edward II. secreted himself in the year 1326, when prevented, by contrary winds, from his intended escape to Ireland; he was soon, however, discovered, and confined in the castle of Kenilworth, under the custody of the Earl of Leicester. Near the ruins are the copper-works: the ore is chiefly imported from Cornwall and Wicklow in Ireland; being calcined, and thereby losing its sulphur, it is refined by the simple process of frequent melting, and taking off the dross, which forms a scum: lastly, being moulded into small plates, or pigs, it is shipped for the market. The method of reducing the metal, when melted, into small particles, is by pouring it into water; and when thus reduced, it is called copper-shot. Brass is a compound of copper thus reduced, and lapis calaminaris pulverized in crucibles, and moulded or cast into plates. Lapis calaminaris is dug in great quantities near Holywell, in Flintshire.
Neath, although surrounded by beautiful scenery, is itself unpleasantly situated: it is low, the streets narrow, the buildings old, and there is in the first view of it an air of desertion and poverty, that sets the traveller against it; yet it possesses some trade as a sea-port, in coals, iron, and copper, for which it is now considerably indebted to its canal, which communicates betwixt Aberdare and Britton Ferry. The ruins of the castle still exist, but possess no particular merit, derived either from strength, beauty, or antiquity. A navigable canal has been made to communicate with all the interior parts of the country to Pont Nedd Vechan. The market days at Neath are Wednesdays and Saturdays. It is one hundred and ninety-six miles one furlong from London. Near Neath is Cringell, the residence of William Davis, Esq. author of a History of this County; and about a mile up the vale of Neath is Cadoxton Lodge, near which is a cascade. The road from hence to Swansea is very good, and not incommoded by the smoke of the copper-works, as it was formerly; but for horse or foot passengers, though more circuitous, there is a pleasant way by
BRITTON FERRY.
This village is much resorted to, on account of its beautiful situation; and many a white-washed cottage straggles through the hamlet. The plantations of the Earl of Jersey, late Lord Vernon’s, are well disposed, and edge the water’s brink: the river is constantly filled with vessels, whose gay streamers glittering to the sun-beam, present to the eye a constant moving object. The richness and beauty of this spot is scarcely to be equalled in all the principality: and the climate is so mild, that myrtles, magnolias, fuschias, and other tender exotics, grow luxuriantly in the open air. The church-yard is very beautiful, and beneath the shade of its trees a friend of the Editor of the present Edition wrote the following lines:
When death has stolen our dearest friends away,
Some tears to shed is graceful:—but to mourn
Loudly and deeply, that their pains are o’er,
Is but to prove, we lov’d ourselves far more
Than e’er we cherish’d, lov’d, or valued them.
To bear misfortune with an equal mind;
To mount the aspiring pinnacle of fame,
With a warm heart, and temperate resolve;
To curb the rage that prompts to wild revenge;
To pay the malice of an envious throng
With pity and forgiveness; and to weep,
With tears of joy, that our most “useful” friend
Has paid the debt Eternity demands,
Alike bespeak nobility of mind,
And the proud hope, that heaven’s decrees are just.
Stranger! of peasant or of royal line;
Treasure these thoughts, and Autumn’s yellow leaf
Shall never fill thine aged eyes with tears!
Having crossed the Ferry, we proceeded on the sands to