Near Cardigan, in the year 1136, the English army, commanded by Ranolph earl of Chester, was shamefully worsted, and the two barons Robert Fitz Roger and Pain Fitz John, with 3000 others, slain on the spot, besides a great number drowned by the fall of a bridge. In this battle the English soldiers appeared to be planet-struck, surrendering themselves prisoners to mere old women; and the general with a few men made their escape not without great difficulty.
Early in the morning after my reaching Cardigan, I made an excursion in search of St. Dogmael’s Priory, about a mile and a half distant. This fragment of antiquity is very much dilapidated, and boasts scarcely any picturesque appearance; the few parts standing are converted into barns, sheds, and habitations; but enough remains to shew the original extent of the church; which was cruciform, of no considerable dimensions, and of the early Gothic style; in the cemetery adjoining the ruin, and the village church,
—“a church-yard yew,
Decay’d and worn with age,”
has a pleasing characteristic effect: and here the scene, finely interspersed with wood, and overlooking the Tivy, is undoubtedly picturesque. This priory was founded for Benedictine monks by Martin de Turribus, a Norman chieftain, who first conquered the surrounding territory called Kames or Kemish, and deluged it with the blood of its natives. This was a common trick for cheating the devil, practised by the organized plunderers of that day. After pillaging a country, and enslaving or massacreing the legitimate proprietors, they hoped to expiate their crime, and quell the rising qualms of conscience, by appropriating a part of their booty to a monkish foundation—to a set of idle jugglers, scarcely less inimical to the rights of society, though less ferocious, than themselves.
Returning to the inn, I rejoined my fellow-tourist, who had just completed his circuit of between forty and fifty miles round the coast: of this route I learn the following particulars:
From Haverfordwest the road passes neat the elevated ruin of Roche castle; thence extends through a wild dreary country, near St. Bride’s dangerous bay, and crossed the romantic creek of Solva to the once flourishing city of St. David’s, now in appearance an inconsiderable village. This deserted place occupies a gentle eminence on that projecting rocky cape called St. David’s head. In a sheltered hollow beneath the town, are the noble ruins of the Metropolitan episcopacy of Wales; yet the Cathedral of St. David’s, though long a mouldering pile, having lately undergone a thorough repair, with a just attention to the antique style of architecture, now appears in renewed magnificence. This venerable structure is cruciform, of large dimensions, and of the early Gothic architecture, though not without much of the high-wrought fret-work additions of later ages. The nave alone wears all the simplicity of its original construction; the tower, highly ornamented, rises from the middle of the church to the height of 127 feet; Bishop Vaughan’s chapel behind the choir, and the dilapidated one of St. Mary’s, exhibit all the elegant tracery of the ornamented Gothic; as does also the chapter-house, and St. Mary’s hall, now a ruin. Among the numerous ancient monuments that are to be met with in the church and its chapels, those of Owen Tudor, and Edward Earl of Richmond, father of Henry the VIIth, both situated near the middle of the choir, are worthy of notice.
The episcopal palace is a superb ruin, surmounted with a light parapet raised upon arches, in the style of Swansea castle and Lamphey court. “The area of the great court is 120 feet square; on the east side of which is the Bishop’s hall, 58 feet in length, and 23 in breadth; the King’s hall, on the south side, is 88 feet by 80. This grand saloon is said to have been built expressly for the reception of King John, on his return from Ireland in 1211.” But we are informed by Godwin, that the palace itself was not erected until about the year 1335: which must be an anachronism, unless the story of King John be unfounded. The first hall is a grand room; but the latter has been particularly splendid. Over the fine arched entrance are the statues of King John and his queen; and at the cast end is a curious circular window with bars diverging from the centre, still in a perfect condition. The chapel containing the remains of a font, and kitchen amply furnished with four chimneys, are also entire: nor are the forsaken apartments deficient in proofs of the regal splendor assumed by the Romish pastors of Christian humility.
Many ruinous buildings, once habitations of ecclesiastical functionaries, surround the cathedral; yet sufficient are kept in repair for the diminished number of officers now appointed: the cathedral service is, nevertheless, performed with an attention that would do credit to more eminent establishments. The whole of these buildings are inclosed by a wall eleven hundred yards in circumference.
St. David’s is supposed to have been a Roman station, the Octapitarum of Ptolemy; and here St. Patrick is said to have founded a monastery to the honour of St. Andrew in the year 470: to this place St. David translated the archbishopric of Wales, from Caerleon, about the year 577, and founded the cathedral, which was afterwards dedicated to him; but the primacy was withdrawn, and annexed to that of Canterbury, in the reign of Henry the First. Here also a college was founded for a master and seven priests by John Duke of Lancaster, in conjunction with his wife and the Bishop of the diocese, in the year 1369.