Old Staircase at Haverfordwest.
To the rear of the dwelling-house stands a flour-mill of antiquated type; yet driving, withal, a brisk trade in its green old age. A well-trained old horse, the mainstay of the establishment, jogs round in the mill and supplies the motive power.
Stepping out to the rear, we find ourselves upon the riverside quay, along which we now take our way. Groups of bulky stone warehouses flank the grass-grown wharf, which presently opening out, reveals the Bristol Trader, a little semi-nautical inn, with its trim bit of garden-ground abloom with hollyhocks and nasturtiums; an old-time spot frequented by waterside gossips, and fraught with vague echoes from that wide outer world where men 'go down to the sea in ships.'
Hence we push on past the ruined priory to the diminutive village of Haroldstone, where some traces still exist of the ancient mansion that, for three successive centuries, was the ancestral home of the Perrots, one of the most notable old families of Pembrokeshire.
UZMASTON.
Vis-à-vis across the river Cleddau rises the parish church of Uzmaston; a picturesque assemblage of roofs and gables, clustering around a quaint old saddle-backed tower. Uzmaston Church has, within the last few years, been rescued from decay, and conscientiously restored by Mr. Lingen Barker, architect, of Hereford.
Skirting a bend of the river, we trudge through the woods to Freystrop, and enter upon a district pitted here and there with old mine-shafts. Over the water lies Boulston, where hard by the brink of the stream (perhaps a bowshot east from the desecrated church) rises a jumble of ivy-clad ruins, backed by a tangled thicket of old forest trees. Here lived the Wogans, a well-known family in days of yore, who adopted a wyvern as their crest from the following tradition.