If thou shouldst ever happen that same way
To travel, go to see that dreadful place:
It is a hideous, hollow, cave-like bay
Under a rock, that has a little space
From the swift Barry, tumbling down apace,
Amongst the woody hills of Dinevawr.
But dare thou not, I charge, in any case
To enter into that same baleful bower,
For fear the cruel fiends should thee unawares devour.

But standing high aloft, low lay thine ear;
And there such ghastly noise of iron chains,
And brasen cauldrons thou shalt rumbling hear,
Which thousand sprights with long enduring pains
Do toss, that it will stun thy feeble brains.
And oftentimes great groans, and grievous sounds,
When too huge toil and labour them constrains.
And oftentimes loud strokes and ringing sounds
From under that deep rock most horribly rebounds.

Faerie Queene, B. iii. Cant. 3.

The view from Grongar Hill is inexpressibly beautiful. To attempt describing it would only be showing the poverty of human language.

From this spot the road winds to Caermarthen with many a graceful curve, through a country presenting a multitude of objects for the pencil of an accomplished painter.

The regular road to Tenby is by St. Clears, nine miles one quarter: Cold Blow, ten miles seven furlongs; left to Tenby, eight miles and a quarter; at St. Clears is the Blue Boar, and at Cold Blow the Windsor Castle; but, should the Tourist prefer the coast to the regular road, I should recommend him to visit Llanstaphan castle, at the mouth of the Towy; a large and venerable ruin, memorable for the siege it sustained about the middle of the twelfth century, when defended by Meredith ap Gruffydd, who defeated all the attacks of the Normans, &c. who besieged it. The village, which is now resorted to for sea-bathing, is situate at the bottom of the hill. At high water there is a ferry to the village on the opposite side: at low water, at particular periods, the sands may be crossed on horseback; but strangers should not attempt this without a guide. From Llanstaphan the Tourist may proceed by Llaugharne, Green Bridge, &c.

From Caermarthen we were recommended to go to

LLAUGHARNE,

in order to see the castle; but it by no means answered our expectation: little part of it now remains; and the neat gravel walk in the garden is ill adapted for the mutilated walls of an ancient ruin. From the neighbouring heights, grand and extensive sea-prospects interest the traveller. At this place was born the once-celebrated Dean Tucker. One mile distant is another ruin, called Rock Castle, but supposed to have been a monastery. About five miles from Llaugharne, we passed a small place, called

GREEN BRIDGE.

It derives its name from an excavation in the rock, through which a little rivulet runs for a mile and a half. This cavity is completely concealed from the road, and impossible to be discovered, unless pointed out. But I would advise travellers to alter their route from Swansea, and pursue the straight road to Caermarthen, by Pontarddylais, where is a comfortable inn, and so to Tenby, by Narbeth. By these means they escape the unpleasant roads (and almost, indeed, inaccessible for carriages), leading from Oystermouth to Cheriton, and likewise from Llaugharne to Tenby. But should the Tourist be led by an invincible curiosity to inspect the ruins of Kidwelly Castle, it may easily be accomplished, by pursuing the turnpike road to Kidwelly, and from thence to Caermarthen. In this last route you only omit visiting the seat of Mr. Talbot, of Penrice, though an object highly worthy of inspection.

At Saunders’ Foot is a small bay, formed on one side by a rock, called the Monkstone, and on the other by the Caermarthenshire coast. Near this place is situate the seat of Captain Ackland; and from thence to Tenby, the dark lowering rocks rose perpendicularly to a considerable height, and then branched out into overhanging crags. It was now dusk;—and at this transforming hour, the bold promontories became shaded with unreal glooms,—the projecting cliffs assumed a more terrific aspect,—and the wild overhanging underwood