FINDEN'S
PORTS, HARBOURS
AND
WATERING PLACES.
THE
PORTS, HARBOURS, WATERING-PLACES,
And Picturesque Scenery
OF
GREAT BRITAIN.
ILLUSTRATED BY VIEWS TAKEN ON THE SPOT,
BY
W. H. BARTLETT, J. D. HARDING, T. CRESWICK,
AND OTHERS.
WITH DESCRIPTIONS, HISTORICAL AND TOPOGRAPHICAL.
VOL. II.
JAMES S. VIRTUE, CITY ROAD, AND IVY LANE, LONDON.
LIST OF PLATES.
VOLUME II.
[The River Mersey, at Liverpool.]
[Liverpool—Canning Dock and Custom-House.]
[———— St. Nicholas' Church, with Shipping.]
[New Brighton, near Liverpool.]
[Conway Castle, with the Suspension-Bridge.]
[———— Quay, with the Castle and Bridge.]
[Menai Bridge, with the Strait.]
[Beaumaris, with the Menai Strait.]
[Holyhead, the Lighthouse, Triumphal-Arch, &c.]
[Carnarvon Castle, the Eagle Tower.]
[Harlech Castle, North Wales.]
[Swansea Bay, with Lighthouse in the Distance.]
[Oystermouth Castle, overlooking Swansea Bay.]
[The Mumbles' Lighthouse, Swansea Bay.]
[The Nass Sands' Lighthouses.]
[Gloucester, Port and Cathedral.]
[Bristol City, from Rownham Ferry.]
[—————— Redcliffe Church and Basin.]
[Clifton, with the New Suspension-Bridge.]
[Bath, with the City, Cathedral, and Downs.]
[Sidmouth, View from the Beach.]
[Hurst Castle, King Charles's Prison.]
[Portsmouth, Entrance to the Harbour.]
[—————— Rigging-Hulk and Frigate.]
[—————— View from the Saluting Platform.]
[Gosport, Flag-Ship Saluting.]
[Spithead, with Ships of War.]
[Hastings, with the Town and Castle.]
[Rye, Sussex, with its ancient Gate, Church, &c.]
[Sandwich, Kent, Ancient Gate and Drawbridge.]
[Ramsgate, Kent, Entrance to the Harbour.]
[Broadstairs, Isle of Thanet, Vessel Ashore.]
[Margate, Two Vessels Ashore.]
[London, from Greenwich Park.]
[Vignette-Entrance to the Port of Berwick.]
THE
PORTS AND HARBOURS
OF
GREAT BRITAIN.
BERWICK.—LIGHTHOUSE ON THE PIER.
The view of the Lighthouse, at the head of Berwick Pier (which forms the [vignette] to our Second Volume), is taken from the entrance to the harbour, about half a mile below the bridge. This Pier, the building of which was commenced in 1810, stands on the north side of the river, and is chiefly erected on the foundations of an old one, which is said to have been built in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. From the lighthouse, which was finished in 1826, two lights are exhibited at night, the one above the other. The upper one, which is of a pale, white colour, is lighted from sunset to sunrise; the lower one, which is of a bright red, is a tide-light, and is only displayed during the time that there is ten feet water on the bar.
Berwick Harbour is not well adapted for vessels of large burthen, for the greater part of the shore, in front of the quay, is dry at low water. On the Tweedmouth side, near the Car Rock, is the best water within the bar; and a vessel drawing from sixteen to eighteen feet water may lie there at all hours of the tide without touching the ground. The entrance to the harbour is narrow, as a bank of sand stretches out to the eastward, from the Spittal shore, to the extent of nearly half a mile, and approaches to within a cable's length of the rocks on the north. When the wind is from the eastward, there is always a swell on the bar; and the ebb-tide—more especially when there is a fresh in the river, in consequence of rain—runs out with such velocity that it is impossible for a vessel to make head against it. Vessels bound for Berwick, which cannot take the harbour in bad weather, usually seek shelter in Leith Roads.
The salmon fishery forms a most important branch of the trade of Berwick. About the middle of the last century, the fish used chiefly to be conveyed to London by small vessels of about forty tons burthen, belonging to Harwich and Gravesend, engaged by the London dealers; the fresh-caught salmon and gilse were conveyed in wells in the hold, but a large portion was sent pickled in kits. About 1787, the practice of packing salmon in pounded ice was suggested by George Dempster, Esq., of Dunnichen, then M.P. for Cupar, to Mr. John Richardson, a salmon-dealer, of Perth, who immediately adopted it; and the next year the salmon-dealers of Berwick followed his example.
Most of the salmon sent from Berwick to London are caught between the mouth of the Tweed and Norham, which is about eight miles up the river, and the highest point to which the tide flows. In 1799, the yearly rental of the fisheries within this distance, on both sides of the river, was estimated at £10,000; and in 1817 it was nearly double that sum. In consequence of the decline of the salmon fishery since 1820, it does not at the present time exceed £9,000. Various causes have been assigned for the decline of the salmon fishery in the Tweed; such as the building of the New Pier at the north side of the harbour; with the draining of lands and the destruction of fish in close time towards the upper parts of the river. How the building of the New Pier, and the draining of lands in Selkirk and Roxburghshire affect the breed of salmon, has not been clearly shown; and poaching in close time has not prevailed to a greater extent during the last twenty years than in the twenty years previous to 1816. The unremitting manner in which the river was legally fished between the mouth of the Tweed and Norham, from 1800 to 1817, is more likely to have been one great cause of the decline; but the proprietors of the fisheries seem unwilling to admit that a river may be over-fished, as well as land exhausted by over-cropping.
It can scarcely be said that there is a public market for salmon in Berwick, almost all that are caught being engrossed by factors or fish-curers, and sent to London; and salmon is generally as dear there as in the metropolis. The fish, as soon as caught, are packed in large boxes, between layers of pounded ice, and in this manner conveyed to the metropolis.
THE MERSEY.
FROM LIVERPOOL.
"A thousand keels the subject wave divide,—
Float with the flow, or stem the ebbing tide,—
Winged messengers that haste, with sails unfurl'd,
To barter produce with some distant world!—
With oar and paddle, sail and thundering steam,
They row—they cleave—they plough the Mersey's stream;
That stream, which, fretted by a thousand prows,
No silent rest, no liquid slumber knows;
Whate'er the hour, whatever wind prevail,
Behold the outward and the homeward sail!"
The Mersey is to Liverpool what the Thames is to London—the grand channel of mercantile prosperity—the main artery that carries health and vigour into the heart of the city, and thence distributes them by a thousand ramifications through all classes of the community. The navigation of this river has long been an object of primary import to the prosperity of our national trade; and therefore every suggestion which promised to obviate and remove those impediments which nature had thrown in the way, has been met with the greatest promptness and liberality. Whatever it was possible for art to accomplish has been attempted, and that so successfully that, if the ultimate object has not yet been obtained, the navigation of the Mersey has at least been rendered comparatively safe and expeditious. The grand enterprise for facilitating the intercourse between Liverpool and Manchester was commenced in 1720, when a canal was formed, and the navigation of the Mersey and Irwell was so greatly improved, that the "flats"—which were previously ten or eleven days in going from one town to the other—could now, by taking advantage of the tide, accomplish the same distance in as many hours. How amazingly this distance has been again shortened in our own times, by the introduction of steam power, is familiar to every one.
The rise and expansion of Liverpool—in all that regards it as a mercantile emporium—have taken place within the last two centuries. In 1650, the town—a mere fishing hamlet—consisted of only five or six streets. A pool, branching from the river, extended over the space now occupied by the new Custom-house and the three streets adjoining; and, for the convenience of intercourse, a ferry-boat was kept at the corner of Church-street and Whitechapel. This ferry was at last superseded by a bridge, erected by the proprietor of the land, Lord Molyneux; and since that period the advancement of the Mersey in the list of great navigable rivers has been unprecedentedly rapid and successful. The grand municipal improvements, however, have all been effected within the last century. During that interval, splendid squares, streets, and public monuments have sprung up into existence. Previously to that epoch there was no spirit, no scope for commercial enterprise, and consequently no harbour, nor dock, nor warehouse. But now spacious harbours extend for several miles along the bank of the Mersey: on the bosom of the river stately merchantmen, outward or homeward bound, laden with the produce of every clime, are continually passing and repassing; while the usual embellishments which follow a train of successful industry are apparent at every step of our progress, adding ever varying features of beauty and animation to the landscape. He who would form a just estimate of the vast and unlimited resources of this great commercial city, should spend at least a day, partly in a promenade along the banks, and partly on the spring-tide of the Mersey.
This river is navigable for vessels of considerable burden so far as the mouth of the Irwell,—a distance of thirty-five miles from Liverpool. It derives its source from the confluence of several small streams on the Cheshire and Derbyshire frontier, and pursues a serpentine course, gradually inclining to the south-west. Its largest tributary is the Irwell, which falls into it near the village of Flixton, seven miles from Manchester. A little below Warrington, the Mersey expands into a broad arm of the sea, and turning abruptly to the south-west, contracts its channel as it passes Liverpool to about three quarters of a mile in breadth; but in proceeding farther inland, it again increases its width to more than three miles. This peculiarity is very advantageous to the port, as the great body of water, passing and repassing at every tide, keeps the navigation of the Mersey always open. A range of sand banks run parallel with the coast for many miles, but several channels intervene, giving sufficient depth for vessels of the heaviest draught at high water, at which time the Mersey presents the most interesting and striking scene,—particularly when a westerly wind favours the arrival of the numerous fleets destined to this port, bearing the flags and freighted with the produce of all nations that have found a place in the chart of commercial enterprise.
CANNING DOCK AND CUSTOM-HOUSE,
LIVERPOOL.
Liverpool presents one of the most remarkable instances on record of the vast influence of commercial speculation, when pursued with steady vigour, prudence, and resolution. Commerce is the first step to empire, and, successfully prosecuted, never fails to consolidate the strength and independence of the state. To this important end no city in the kingdom has so amply contributed as Liverpool; none of our rivers, the Thames excepted, has wafted to our shores so many precious cargoes as the Mersey, nor exported so much of the produce of our native manufactures to all parts of the world. This great commercial city, rapid as its progress has been, is still advancing in the career of prosperity; hardly a month passes without some local improvement,—some substantial proof that her trade is on the increase, stimulating domestic industry, and affording the means of unlimited intercourse with every shore of the commercial world.
Canning Dock, with the Custom-house, forms one of the finest points of view in Liverpool, presenting at one view a building of elegant design and execution, and a forest of masts which sufficiently indicate the bustle of trade, and the air of business that pervade every feature of the place—animate or inanimate. Canning Dock—so distinguished in honour of Mr. Canning, a name happily identified with Liverpool and the prosperity of its trade,—covers a space of five hundred yards in length. On the west side it communicates with three graving docks, where vessels are laid up for repairs, and is chiefly occupied by vessels trading to the northern coast. It is the first of the seven docks extending southward, and is generally filled by vessels in the act of discharging or taking in their cargoes. It presents a scene of great bustle and activity, and, though only one out of many, affords the stranger a very clear idea of the vast amount of traffic that is daily shipped or entered at this emporium.
The Custom-House is of recent date, and replaced the old official buildings, which were found quite inadequate to the purposes of a daily extending commerce. Through the united interest of Canning and Huskisson, negociations were entered into with Government as to the necessity of a new Custom-house; and after a short time arrangements were concluded for its immediate erection. Mr. Foster, architect to the Liverpool corporation, was engaged to prepare the designs, and made choice of the present site as the most appropriate for a commercial building of this size and character.
The lower apartments of the Custom-house consist of spacious vaults for the safe custody of bonded and other goods; and in the centre is the apartment known as the Long Room. The offices of customs occupy the whole extent of the west wing; and it is intended that part of the east wing shall be appropriated to the use of the general post-office. Above these are the excise offices and those of the dock-treasurer and secretaries. The remaining portions of the edifice are subdivided into the board-room, the dock-committee's offices, and the stamp-office.
The chasteness and beauty of the Ionic style of architecture adopted in this magnificent edifice have been much and justly admired. The centre, and the east and west fronts are adorned by lofty porticos, each supported by eight Ionic columns. The centre of the building is surmounted by a magnificent dome, lighted by sixteen windows, and ornamented round by pilasters. Inclosed within the outer dome is a smaller one encircled by twelve windows, so as to afford sufficient light to the Long Room. The interior of this building will amply repay the stranger for a visit. The grand front is opposite Castle-street; and, entering in this direction, the first object which claims attention is the massive grouping of the pilasters which support the floor of the Long Room over head. The stairs, flanked by handsome iron balustrades,—the landing-places supported by eight Ionic stone columns, each of a single piece,—the four pilasters, and the elaborate ceilings,—are all deserving of particular attention. The Long Room is altogether splendidly designed and executed; lighted by fourteen windows on the sides, and by twelve as already observed, in the inner dome. The ceiling is divided by lateral and transverse beams into regular compartments, all beautifully ornamented. At each of the opposite ends of this noble apartment are a corresponding flight of stairs and landing-places. But to convey a just description of this monument to the genius of commerce is at once difficult and tedious; we therefore recommend all who may visit Liverpool, as admirers of its docks, harbours, and splendid edifices, to devote an hour to the Custom-house—a building which reflects great honour upon the architect, and serves as a lasting ornament to the second city of the empire.
ST. NICHOLAS' CHURCH AND ST. GEORGE'S BASIN,
LIVERPOOL.
"Here have the wild deer bounded,—here the trees
Waved, a wide-spreading forest, in the breeze!
Then came the woodman's axe,—the forest fell,—
The shrine arose, and peal'd the chapel bell;—
The crowd of pilgrims and the sound of prayer
Disturbed the woodland savage in his lair....
What hear we now!—what see we in the gale!
The city's shout,—the far-expanding sail,—
The crowded Mart,—the tramp of busy feet—
And wheels that shake the densely-peopled street."
St. Nicholas, or the Old Church, is supposed to stand upon the site of an ancient chapel built about the time of the Conquest. But whether this be correct or not, there is at least evidence to prove that, in 1361, license for burial here was granted by the Bishop of Lichfield. It was endowed by Queen Elizabeth with a small sum, under five pounds, to be paid annually out of the chantry rents to the minister; and another sum, between five and six pounds, as a yearly grant to the schoolmaster. In the olden time a statue of the patron, St. Nicholas, erected in the churchyard, was much frequented by mariners, who believed that an offering made to the saint would conciliate the winds in their favour, and secure a prosperous voyage. Time, however, put an end to this confederacy between the saint and seamen. St. Nicholas was dethroned; and for a time the winds "blew as if they would have cracked their cheeks" at the downfall of one who had so long laid them under arrest. But at length a better knowledge of the compass and the coast made the seaman ample compensation for the loss of his ghostly patron, and showed him that a skilful mariner and a stout bark are better securities against storm and tempest than any saint in the calendar.
In 1774 this church was rebuilt,—"The old roof, walls, and Gothic pillars, the old blue ceiling, black and white clouds, golden sun, moon, and stars, painted and gilt thereon," were removed, and the re-edification completed, under the direction of Joseph Brooks, Esq. In 1810 this church was the scene of a dreadful catastrophe; the steeple suddenly gave way as the children of the charity-school were entering the church. It fell upon the body of the building, and twenty-four lives were sacrificed, seventeen of which were girls belonging to the school. Many others were severely wounded. The accident was attributed to the weakness of an old arch upon which a modern spire had been erected. The spire was subsequently restored by Mr. Harrison, of Chester, with a degree of taste and execution which does him credit. It consists of an ornamented Gothic tower, surmounted by an open lantern, with an air of great lightness and elegance, and forming a very striking feature among the many architectural objects—civil and ecclesiastical—by which it is surrounded. The height of the tower is one hundred and twenty feet, and that of the lantern sixty; so that together the steeple has an elevation of not less than one hundred and eighty feet. During the night the clock opposite the river is illuminated, so that it may serve as a landmark to assure the mariner that St. Nicholas is still on the watch for his safety, as in the good olden time.
St. George's Dock, from which the view of the Church is taken, was constructed according to an act of parliament obtained in 1762, and completed at an expenditure of twenty-one thousand pounds. It is two hundred and sixty-four yards in length, one hundred in breadth, and lined on the east side by a row of very large warehouses, with footpaths under the piazzas. Extending along both sides are sheds for merchandise; and on the pier-head, at the west side of the dock, are the public baths. The latter, comprised in a large building of plain but classical design and execution, were erected by the corporation at an expense of thirty-six thousand pounds, and opened to the public in the month of June, 1829. Nothing could be better adapted to its purpose than this great public edifice, in which the twofold recommendation of ornament and utility are happily combined. The water is constantly flowing through the baths in a fresh current; being supplied from the river at high-tide, filtered, and contained in a reservoir of eight hundred tons under the centre of the building. Private, cold, shower, warm, tepid, medicated, and vapour baths are to be had at all hours; and from the excellent manner in which every department is arranged and conducted, the inhabitants possess in this establishment one of the great means of promoting health and averting disease.
NEW BRIGHTON.
New Brighton has already taken a prominent station in the list of fashionable watering-places, and in several respects bids fair to eclipse even the attractions of its celebrated namesake in Sussex. Highly favoured by nature in a romantic point of view, the striking features of this locality have been duly taken advantage of in constructing a series of marine villas, all in harmony with the native landscape. These, with the most picturesque effects as viewed from a distance, combine every accommodation that can be desired,—either for families of distinction, or private individuals; while the air, which the invalid inhales from the atmosphere around him, produces a degree of vigour and exhilaration, which is rarely experienced in situations more inland or less elevated.
"The rural wilds
Invite; the mountains call you; and the vales,
The woods, the streams, and each ambrosial breeze
That fans the ever-undulating sky—
A kindly sky!"
The honour of founding New Brighton belongs to James Atherton, Esq. A bold design, as it at first appeared, but which judgment, taste, and a liberal hand have converted into a lasting monument,—creditable alike to the originator and to the discriminating public, who have manifested a decided preference for the situation, and thus amply justified the enterprise. The first step taken by Mr. Atherton was to purchase nearly two hundred acres of land, including the site of the future town. These were put under the care of persons well instructed in the plan of operations. The design was prosecuted with unremitting zeal; houses sprang up, streets were laid out, and in a comparatively short time the skeleton of New Brighton was completed. Strangers resorted to the spot; the citizens of Liverpool became eager for its completion, and for those enjoyments which it presented as a summer retreat, as well as for the many advantages which it offered to the invalid. Thus encouraged by the vote of public approbation, the works made rapid progress, and shortly after assumed the name and consideration of a favourite watering-place.
In the design and execution of the various embellishments of the place, the architect has never stepped aside from the rules of good taste. The pleasure and accommodation of the visitors have been carefully studied. Spacious streets, fifteen yards in breadth and nearly a mile in length, insure a free circulation of air, and throw open an agreeable promenade to the public, who resort thither in great numbers during the summer and autumn. The partiality evinced for this watering place, (of which the inhabitants can so readily take advantage,) is every day adding to the number of its visitors, and thereby contributing to the further extension of the original plan. A commodious and elegant hotel has been erected, where casual visitors and others, in conjunction with the allurements of a well-served table, can enjoy the exhilarating prospect of the sea, and the numberless vessels of all denominations that stud and traverse its waters. For the accommodation of the resident population, a reservoir, containing nearly two thousand gallons of water, has been constructed, and supplied from a fine spring on the beach.
The Fort and Lighthouse are objects well deserving of attention. The former is very strongly built, and covers a space of nearly four thousand yards. It is approached from the main land by means of a drawbridge, and mounts sixteen pieces of cannon with others in the embrasures of the towers. On account of the great sandbank at the entrance of the river, it is ordered that every ship of heavy burden shall pass within nine hundred yards of the Fort.
The Lighthouse is constructed of Anglesey marble, and is considered a masterpiece of its kind. It rises about ninety feet above the rock; each stone is worked to a given geometrical form, and made to lock and dovetail with those adjoining with great accuracy. The whole is cemented together by a liquid volcanic substance brought from the vicinity of Mount Ætna, which, in the course of time, becomes as hard as marble. The lantern is illuminated by revolving lights—two of which are brilliantly white, and the other of a deep red. The work is from the design of Mr. Foster, and executed by Mr. Tomkinson, at an expense to the Liverpool Corporation of twenty-seven thousand five hundred pounds.
MATLOCK,
DERBYSHIRE.
"To Matlock's calm, sequester'd vale
Bear that maiden, faint and pale!
There—'mid streams like music flowing,
There—'mid flowers profusely blowing,
Health and beauty shall return,
And snatch a victim from the urn."
The reputation of the Matlock water is supported by the recorded testimony of more than a century; while the picturesque scenery in which the village is embosomed forms no small addition to its medicinal attractions. The number of invalids who resort annually to this salubrious spring appears to be on the increase,—the best criterion of the value attached to it. In the superior accommodation which it now offers to every class of visitors, nothing has been neglected that even the most fastidious can desire. Those domestic comforts, in particular, which are often of more real importance to valetudinarians than the skill of the physician, have been provided with a scrupulous exactness, which makes the stranger at Matlock feel completely at home.
Matlock, however, though so friendly to the invalid, is neither gloomy nor isolated; but to those who delight to mix in the gayer scenes of artificial life, it possesses every attraction which refined society and social intercourse can bestow. He who seeks health, and he who seeks relaxation and pleasure, may enjoy every facility which science or fashion can offer; and nowhere are the amusements better conducted, or the rules of society more strictly observed, than at Matlock.
The environs embrace some of the most striking and romantic scenery, as well as historical sites, in England; and so close at hand that many of the finest features enter into the same picture. Washed by the crystal Derwent and finely wooded,—with rocks, and fountains, and precipices, scattered at random through the charming landscape,—the visitor is tempted to pass much of his time in the open air, which accelerates the cure the water has begun. Romantic foot-paths, meandering along the rocky acclivities, and opening at short intervals upon enchanting points of view, allure the indolent to that salutary exercise which seldom fails to reward the piéton with increased strength and exhilaration of spirits. The roads in the vicinity are kept in the best possible order, and, owing to the nature of the soil, rain is so speedily carried off, or absorbed, that the invalid may indulge in out-door exercise without apprehension.
That portion of Matlock in which the invalid is most interested consists of the Old Bath, the New Bath, the Hotel, and several commodious lodging-houses, situated on the south-east side of the Derwent. These, with the various additions and improvements recently effected, offer to his choice all that can be desired in point of comfort and convenience. The buildings are of stone, elegantly constructed externally, and presenting internally an arrangement admirably adapted to the purposes of their erection. The servants of the establishments are well conducted, and attentive to their several duties; and the vigilance with which every department is regulated is a subject of commendation with every visitor.
The water of Matlock is remarkable for its sparkling purity; it springs from limestone rock in a copious stream; and, having a temperature of sixty-eight degrees of Fahrenheit, is to be considered as a thermal water. It has been found to contain a small portion of neutral salt—probably muriate of soda—and an earthy salt, chiefly calcareous. Of the latter, when the water is exposed to the air, a deposition is quickly effected, and incrustations formed upon every substance immersed in it—some curious specimens of which are seen at what are called the Petrifying Wells.
In a medical point of view, the water of Matlock may be employed in all those cases in which a pure diluent drink is advisable; but it is chiefly used as a tepid bath—or at least as one which exceeds the extreme limits of a cold bath. On this account, it produces only a slight shock on immersion, and is, therefore, peculiarly fitted for those delicate and languid habits that cannot exert sufficient reaction to overcome the effects of the common cold-bath, and on which the benefit it produces chiefly depends. It forms a good intermediate bath between that of Bath or Buxton and the sea, and may be recommended as a preparative for the latter. The abundant supply of water always at the same temperature is a circumstance in favour of natural baths; while the purity of the air and exquisite beauty of the situation must always render Matlock a favourite resort for the invalid and man of taste. To the geologist it presents a wide and interesting field of observation. Few districts in England comprise within the same limits so great a proportion of poetical and historical scenes.
CONWAY CASTLE,
NORTH WALES.
"Tantôt c'est un vieux fort, qui, du haut des collines,
Tyran de la contrie, effrei de ses vassaux,
Portait jusqu'au ciel l'orgueil de ses crénaux;
Qui, dans ces temps affreux de discorde et d'alarmes,
Vit les grands coups de lance et les noble faits d'armes
De nos preux chevaliers......
Aujourd'hui la moisson flotte sur ses débris."
Conway, or more properly Aberconway—so called from its position on the river of that name—makes no inconsiderable figure in the page of ancient history. It appears, on the testimony of Suetonius, the Roman governor in Britain, that the chief motive entertained by his countrymen in their occupation of this coast was a pearl fishery at the mouth of the river Conway; a specimen of which, presented by Sir R. Wynne to the Queen of Charles the Second, is said to have found a place among the jewels that now adorn the British diadem.
The town of Conway is large, though not populous, and in situation and appearance highly picturesque. It is surrounded by lofty embattled walls, a mile and a half in circumference, well preserved, defended by twenty-four round-towers and four gates, and presenting at all points a striking picture of the ancient style of fortification. From the side towards the river ran two curtain-walls, terminating in watch-towers, but of which only one remains.
The castle, a truly grand and imposing structure, was built in 1284; an epoch which gave origin to so many of those native fortresses, which will long continue to be the subject of interest and admiration to every traveller in this romantic country.
Conway had, unlike Carnarvon and other fortresses situated on a level, no imposing portal to usher into the interior. Its two entrances were small, both practised for security, between an advanced work flanked by two small towers, one ascending by winding stairs from the river, the other, from the interior of the town, crossed the defensive moat by means of a drawbridge, and passed through a portal and outwork of small turrets into the great court of the castle. This stands on a rock, its courts flanked by eight enormous battlemented round-towers of unequalled beauty of proportion, those next the river having in addition small turrets. Of these towers, all are perfect as to their exterior save one, called Twr Dwu, or the broken tower, of which the lower portion, with the rock that supported it, has fallen away, exposing to view the immense solidity of its fractured walls. The interior of each tower was occupied by several stages of spacious apartments, the flooring and roof of which are entirely gone, with the fire-places, and lancet windows, the interior yawning in vacant desolation, blackened, weather-stained, and overgrown with rampant weeds and briers. There were stairs to ascend to the upper apartments from the courts below, and a way round the battlements which may still be followed out. The interior of the castle consists of two courts, comprising the different apartments. As we enter the grassy area, surrounded by ivied walls, and picturesquely surmounted by the battlemented turrets, the great hall appears on the right; three spacious windows of pointed architecture, and formerly highly enriched with mullions and tracery, lighted it on the side next the court, and the side wall, furnished with six lancet windows, with recessed and raised seats, looking out upon the creek, which, running up from the Conway, defended the walls on the south. Two carved fire-places of ample dimensions warmed the immense and royal apartment, supported by several gothic arches, some of which, clothed with ivy, still span the vacant space above, while beneath, among nettles and brambles, yawn the offices below. At the extremity of the hall is a noble arched window. The walls are now mantled thick with ivy, and the nettle and bramble overgrow what remains of the floor of this royal apartment, where Edward, whose statue in Westminster Abbey is of unequalled beauty, and Queen Eleanor, with masque and antique pageantry, entertained the throng of knights and barons bold, who had assisted in the subjugation of the Welsh, who besieged, however, the potent monarch in his own castle, and would have starved him into a surrender, but for the timely arrival of a fleet bearing soldiers and provisions. Since that period, its history is little remarkable. It was held in the civil war, for Charles I., by Archbishop Williams, who, being superseded by Prince Rupert, assisted the Parliamentarians in effecting the reduction of the place.
CONWAY QUAY.
The district of Conway is mostly agricultural, and possesses no distinct manufactures by which the prosperity of the town and its population can be greatly promoted. A few small trading-vessels belong to the port; and here also ships of burden are occasionally repaired. The great improvement to the harbour is the erection of the quay; and the channel of the river having been deepened, and every impediment to the navigation removed, it may be anticipated that a speedy increase of trading intercourse will succeed its former languor and inactivity. The exports consist chiefly of timber, slate, and lead; and the imports, of coal from Flint and Liverpool, and of tea, sugar, cotton, with various other articles of domestic consumption.
The chain-bridge, which constitutes so beautiful a feature in the picture of Conway, was erected by Mr. Telford, of whose genius Wales possesses several of the noblest monuments. That immediately under notice—constructed on the same principles as the bridge over the Menai, but much smaller in its proportions—is three hundred and twenty feet between the supporting towers, and eighteen feet above high-water mark. Nothing can be more elegant and beautiful, as it appears lightly spanning the river, and suffering the eye to penetrate its net-like fabric, so as scarcely to offer an obstruction to the landscape which shines through it. The scenery at this point is exceedingly interesting, and presents the works of nature, and art, and human genius, in striking combination.
The town of Conway, before the formation of the railroad, was one of the most old-world places imaginable, unique for its faded and forlorn appearance, small as is the area enclosed, a considerable portion being occupied by open spaces and gardens. Everywhere entered by gothic portals, and as its interior was traced, with the defensive wall everywhere in sight, it transported the beholder back to the middle ages, more than any other walled city in England. There is a singular and picturesque variety of ancient houses; some at the head of the street leading to the castle, curiously carved, appear almost as old as the castle itself; others with their gable roofs, and black rafters, are of later date, and the Plas Mawr, or great mansion, in the principal street, prominently challenges the traveller's attention with its air of faded magnificence and singular construction. It is of Elizabethan architecture, and the arms of England, with initial letters E. R. and R. D., supposed to be Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, as well as those of R. W., Robert Wynne of Gwydir, sheriff of Carnarvon in 1591, and founder of the house, occur frequently, and the place is lavishly adorned with various decorative devices of the age—swans, owls, ostriches, mermaids, ragged staves, &c. The church contains little to interest beyond its front, and an inscription to a certain Nicholas Hooker, of Conway, gentleman, of a very anti-Malthusian import, the said Nicholas, though the father of twenty-seven children, being but a degenerate copy of his father, who could boast—O si sic omnia!—of no less than forty-one.
Numerous and delightful are the rambles about this most picturesque place, which is backed by bold heathy hills and green sequestered valleys. One of the prettiest is to Gyffin, about a mile distant, which may be reached by following up the shores of the creek, south of the castle, and the small stream coming down into it. The little church is very ancient, and contains some curious paintings worthy of inspection; it is half buried, and so unpretending is the building in aspect, that it may be passed almost without noticing its sacred character. There is an excellent view of the town and castle from the upper road on the return; the long line of walls may be traced from the highest point, as they sweep round and join the castle, the whole space thus enclosed resembling in its outline the Welsh harp, as often suggested. The river and hills appear finely beyond. The artist especially should not omit to view Conway from this, perhaps its finest point of view.
So unique is, or rather was, Conway Castle in picturesque effect, that it is difficult to mention any particular point from which it appears to greater advantage than another. From the quay, or the river, from every eminence around, seen in front or flank, near or distant, either by itself, or where the walls of the town prominently enter into the composition, it is, or rather was, alike unequalled. The tourist who is not pressed for time, and delights to hover around so magnificent a memorial of past ages, will study it at every point. On taking a solitary walk round the walls, he may fancy himself tracing the abandoned battlements of some old gothic town of the Orient, Rhodes, or Antioch, or the Saracenic defences of Jerusalem; a dream which may hardly be long indulged at present; for now, as Hood says,
"That iron age, which some have thought
Of mettle rather overwrought,
Is now all overcast,"
and its crumbling memorials are sharing the same fate. Furness Abbey is turned into a railway station, and the passing train thunders through the very centre of old, castellated Conway, reminding us, while it indeed scares away all romantic daydreams, of the happy change from feudal oppression and border warfare, to the fusion of jarring interests, and the progress of enlightened civilization.
THE MENAI BRIDGE.
The Menai Bridge, one of the many triumphs of modern engineering, arose from the following circumstances. During the summer of 1818, Mr. Telford, the engineer, was engaged on a survey of the extensive line of road from the metropolis to Holyhead—that point of the Welsh coast nearest to Ireland, and situated in the Island of Anglesea. Between this island and the Caernarvon coast flows that arm of the sea familiar to every reader as the Menai Straits, through which the tide rushes with great velocity, owing to local peculiarities well known to all who have navigated that portion of the Channel. There were at this time five or six ferries across the strait; but these, owing to the circumstances mentioned, were generally difficult, and seldom without danger; so that the intercourse between the opposite shores being much impeded, was a source of daily inconvenience to the inhabitants. This was more particularly felt from the fact that one of the staple productions of Anglesea was its cattle, which, when sold for the inland counties or the London market, had to be driven into the water, and compelled to cross the strait by swimming, which was attended with risk of property as well as inconvenience. These circumstances were brought before the eyes of Telford, and his ever-active and ingenious mind set instantly to work, in order to remedy the evil by providing new facilities of intercourse. The result of his reflections and mature calculations on this engrossing topic was the possibility of throwing a bridge across the Menai.
The grand obstacle was a deep rapid tide-stream with high banks. To have erected a bridge of the usual materials would have obstructed the navigation; and any attempt to erect piers in the shifting bed of the sea must have inevitably proved a failure. Telford therefore recommended the erection of a suspension-bridge; and the plan, after due consideration, being approved by government, the work was commenced in 1820, carried on with great spirit, and in 1826 brought to a most successful termination. It is partly of stone, partly of iron, and consists of seven stone arches. These arches connect the land with the two main piers, which rise on an elevation of fifty-three feet above the level of the road, over the top of which the chains are suspended, each of which measures from its fastenings in the rock, one thousand seven hundred and fourteen feet. The topmasts of the first three-masted vessel which passed under the bridge were nearly as high as those of a frigate, but they cleared twelve feet and a half below the level of the roadway. The suspending power of the chains is calculated at two thousand and sixteen tons; and the total weight of each chain is one hundred and twenty-one tons.
Since the day it was first opened, the Menai Bridge has been the wonder of every traveller, an object of pilgrimage for scientific men of all countries, and a source of daily advantage to the United Kingdom, which no other work would have supplied. "The visiting of the Menai Bridge," says Mr. Smith, in his Guide to Snowdonia, "forms a new era in the lives of those who have not had that pleasure, and is a renewed luxury to those who have. There is something to be admired at every step: the effect of a passing carriage; the vibration caused by the mere application of the hand to the suspending-rods; the depth of a hundred feet to the level of the water; the fine view of the Straits in both directions; the lofty pillar erected in honour of Lord Anglesey; the diminutive appearance of persons on the shore; the excellence and strength of the workmanship, the beauty of the arches over the road through the suspension-piers, and the echo in them, all conspire to fascinate and detain the spectator. There is so much elegance, beauty, and magnificence, in this grand work of art, that it harmonizes and accords perfectly with the natural scenery around; and although in itself an object of admiration, still, in connexion with the features of the landscape, it heightens the effect of the general view."
"Seen, as I approached it," says Mr. Roscoe, "in the clear light of an autumnal sunset, which threw a splendour over the wide range of hills beyond, and the sweep of richly variegated groves and plantations which covered their base; the bright river, the rocky picturesque foreground; villas, spires, and towers here and there enlivening the prospect—the Menai Bridge appeared more like the work of some great magician than the mere result of man's skill and industry." Such were the encomiums lavished upon the first bridge which crossed the Menai; but men have since learned to view this structure with diminished admiration. Telford's great work no longer stands alone. The tubular bridge of his great successor, Stephenson, has taken its place beside the older and lighter work, and the very fact of its existence tends to diminish the wonder with which the first was looked upon.
PORT PENRHYN AND BANGOR.
Bangor, although a city and the oldest see in the principality, is inconsiderable in size and population; but the natural beauty of its situation, the advantages which it commands from its inland as well as maritime connexion, and its excellent society, render the town and environs a most desirable place of residence, as well as a favourite resort for those families and individuals who employ the summer months in the pursuit of health, recreation, or improvement. The numerous walks, rides, and drives in the vicinity, all enhanced by their immediate and varied prospects of the sea, offer those facilities to health and enjoyment which cannot be too highly appreciated either by the tourist or resident. The city consists principally of one irregular street, fully a mile in length, with a fine vista towards the Menai—a name which the genius of Telford has rendered familiar to all the admirers of science and art. The houses are well-built, of a moderate size, neat in their appearance, and present to the stranger's eye a pleasing air of domestic comfort and progressive improvement. In the latter respect, no year passes away without contributing something to the public ornament or utility—objects which are zealously patronised by the influential inhabitants, and encouraged by those numerous and spirited visitors, estimated at fifty thousand annually, whom business or relaxation attract to the place. But to convey the best proof of the advances which Bangor has realised in the scale of provincial importance, and in all that has immediate reference to social and local improvements, we need only state that at the commencement of the present century the number of houses was only ninety-three, but that now it amounts to nine hundred or upwards. During three-quarters of the year a regular communication between Bangor and Liverpool is kept up by the steamboats that ply along this romantic and much-frequented coast, and which contribute greatly to the interests of the place. The environs are enlivened by many picturesque villas, and every accommodation is provided in the hotels and private lodging-houses for the reception of visitors.
The great object of general interest at Bangor is its cathedral,—a very ancient and venerable structure,—the foundation of which was among the earliest of those primitive temples which marked the triumphant progress of Christianity on the British soil. It is understood to have been founded by St. Daniel, at the commencement of the sixth century, and bears the sainted name of the founder. The choir was built by Bishop Deane, in or about 1496, and is used only for the cathedral service. The nave, built by Bishop Skivington in 1532, is fitted up as a parish church; and in one of the transepts the service is read in the Welsh tongue.
The free school,—founded in 1557 by Dr. Glynn, brother of the bishop of that name,—five daily schools within the parish, the central National school, four Sunday-schools, and almshouses, give a most favourable impression of the religious and civil advantages enjoyed by the inhabitants of Bangor, who evince a spirit and zeal worthy of those blessings which, in comparison with other and far more populous towns, place them in so enviable a position.
The principal export is the product of the slate-quarries, which is conveyed on a railway from Llandegai, six miles distant, to port Penrhyn, at the egress of the river Cegid into the Menai. This port is now capable of receiving vessels of large burden. It is nine hundred feet in length, and in all respects well adapted for the trading-craft which here take in their cargoes. The slates are of all dimensions, from large tombstone slabs down to the smallest size for roofing. For cyphering-slates, inkstands, and other fancy articles, there is a manufactory near the port. At a short distance is a handsome building containing hot and cold sea-water baths, with rooms for dressing and refreshment. The construction of this establishment, with its terrace and other appurtenances, is said to have cost the late Lord Penrhyn thirty thousand pounds. In the straits of Menai there is a good fishery, near Garth Ferry. There is a weekly market every Friday; and fairs are held in April, June, September, and October. No stranger should neglect to visit Penrhyn Castle, one of the finest baronial mansions in Europe.
BEAUMARIS,
ANGLESEA.
"I have stood gazing on Snowdon and Plinlimmon, the vale of Clwyd, the straits of Menai—lake, river, sea, and land—till they seemed of themselves to say, Stranger, well mayst thou gaze! we merit thine admiration—we are of God!"
Beaumaris is finely situated on the picturesque banks of the Menai, where it opens into the bay, and presents many attractions derived from its historical monuments, its natural advantages, and modern improvements. As the principal town in the island and county of Anglesea, it has long been a place of fashionable resort, and being at the same time the borough and market-town, it is a scene of considerable activity, cheerfulness, and animation. It is in general well built; particularly one street, the houses of which are large and commodious, and of superior design and execution. Of the original wall by which it was once enclosed, considerable portions still remain—sufficient to demonstrate, by their massive strength and durability, the iron features, and the no less iron policy of feudal times. The castle—erected by Edward the First, and now an imposing ruin close to the town—covers a large space of ground, but stands too low to produce that effect upon the spectator which it would have done had it, like so many of its cotemporaries, occupied an isolated and commanding position. It is surrounded by a deep fosse, with an entrance between two embattled walls on the east, with round and square towers. The gate opens into a spacious court, measuring fifty-seven yards by sixty, with four square towers, and an advanced-work on the east, called the Gunner's Walk. Within these was the keep—the body of the castle—nearly square, having a round tower at each angle, and another in the centre of each façade. The area forms an irregular octagon, of the dimensions above named. In the middle of the north side is the hall, twenty yards long by twelve broad, with two round towers, and several others about the inner and outer walls, built of a bluish stone intermixed with square stones, which produce a rather novel and pleasing effect.
There appears to have been originally a communication round the whole buildings of the inner court by means of a gallery two yards broad, and which still remains nearly entire. In various recesses in different parts of the sides of this gallery are square apertures, which appear to have had trap-doors or openings into a dungeon beneath. The two eastern towers served also as dungeons, with a dark and narrow descent to each—sufficiently characteristic of the dark and despotic purposes to which they were applied. On the east side of this building are the remains of a very small chapel, arched and ribbed with painting and intersecting arches; also some Gothic pilasters and narrow lancet-headed windows, and various compartments, with closets constructed—after the manner of those times—in the centre of the massive walls.
When Edward the First built the town, and erected it into a corporation, he endowed it at the same time with various lands and privileges of considerable value, in order to secure more firmly his possessions in the island, and changed its name from Bonover to Beaumaris, in allusion, it is supposed, to its low but pleasant situation. He caused also a canal to be cut, in order that vessels might be brought up close under the battlements to discharge their cargoes, as the iron mooring-rings affixed to the walls clearly indicate.
The church, which forms a prominent feature in the picture of Beaumaris, is a spacious and very elegant structure, having a lofty square tower, visible at a great distance, and presenting in all its proportions and compartments a fine specimen of ecclesiastical architecture. The other public buildings consist of the county-hall, the town-hall, the free-school, and the custom-house; each possessing, in an eminent degree, every ornament and accommodation befitting buildings of their class and destination. The view from the green commands a striking prospect of the most interesting portion of the Menai Strait, bounded in the distance by the Caernarvon mountains, which gradually overtop each other till they unite in the majestic Snowdon, whose summit—now belted with clouds, and now glittering in the sunshine—asserts his claim to undivided empire as "Sovran" of the British Alps.
With respect to trade, Beaumaris can hardly be said to enjoy any exclusive advantages: the vessels belonging to the port are generally hired by neighbouring merchants and others, who have trading connexions with Liverpool and other ports on the English and Irish sides of the Channel. The bay, though not spacious, is safe and commodious, and affords shelter and good anchorage for vessels that take refuge here in tempestuous weather. The town has a weekly market on Wednesdays, and three annual cattle fairs in February, September, and December. During the season it is much resorted to as bathing-quarters, and has everything to recommend it as a summer residence. A steam-boat plies regularly between this and Liverpool, thereby affording every facility to visitors, and presenting in the passage a rich succession of beautiful, picturesque, and sublime scenery, which successively invites and fascinates the eye of the spectator.
HOLYHEAD.
Holyhead is familiar to every reader as the favourite point of rendezvous for all who are on their way to the Irish capital. By the admirable arrangements of the Post-office, and the sure and swift-sailing packets that are here in regular attendance, a passage across the Channel is now a matter of as much certainty, as to time, as that of the mail from London. The perfect order and the surprising expedition with which passengers and despatches may thus be forwarded to and from Dublin are the general theme of admiration amongst foreigners, and a means of vast accommodation to our own commercial houses. During a long series of years the improvement of Holyhead has engaged the special attention of Government; every suggestion, entitled to the approbation of skilful and experienced engineers, has been liberally carried into effect: so that in the present day it seems hardly possible that any packet-station can offer greater facilities for all the purposes of Government, or for the interests of social and commercial intercourse, than Holyhead. The steam-vessels which carry the daily mails are of the best possible construction, commanded by experienced naval officers, and affording excellent accommodation for the passengers who are constantly passing to and fro between the British and Irish shores.
The harbour of Holyhead is shaped by the natural cliffs which overhang the sea, on the verge of which stand the ancient sanctuary of the place and its cemetery. The foundation of this church—originally a small monastery—dates from the close of the fourth century: it was long afterwards remodelled into a college of presbyters by one of the Lords of Anglesey; and, after undergoing many alterations suitable to the varying taste of the ages through which it has passed, it assumed its present appearance—that of an embattled edifice built in the shape of a cross.
Under the Head—the mountain from which the harbour takes its name, and which overshadows the town—are two rocky eminences nearly opposite the church, both of which are crowned with ruins which carry the mind far back among the bright days of Cambrian independence. In the rock is a wide and lofty cavern, supported by natural columns, on which tradition has conferred the title of the Parliament-house; and it is not to be denied that patriotic legislators have been often worse accommodated. This curiosity requires to be visited in a boat. On the highest point stands an uncemented circular stone wall, about ten feet in circumference, which is conjectured to have served as a pharos in ancient times; for this coast has a perilous celebrity attached to it, and no vessel could safely approach the haven by night without a warning signal of this kind.
The pier of Holyhead is admirably constructed. It is built on a small island north of the harbour, called Inys-halen, and combines in an eminent degree the requisites of security and accommodation in a work of such importance to the interests of trade. The foundation was laid in 1809, under fortunate auspices; and the grand object, which had been so long and anxiously cherished, was happily accomplished, under the able direction of Mr. Rennie, within a comparatively short period. It has a depth of four fathoms water, so that vessels of heavy burden can ride at anchor in perfect safety. At the extremity is a lighthouse, finely proportioned, substantially built, and highly ornamental as well as useful to the pier and harbour.
The pier extends a thousand feet in length; and close adjoining to it are the Custom-house, with several respectable family houses, among which are those for the harbour-master and resident engineers. The lighthouse contains twenty lamps and reflectors, at an elevation of more than fifty feet above the sea, and exhibiting in every direction a steady blaze of light. At the present time, works for improving and enlarging the harbour are proceeding on a very extensive scale, and bid fair, upon completion, to render Holyhead one of the first harbours of the United Kingdom.
THE SOUTHSTACK LIGHTHOUSE,
HOLYHEAD.
"Approaching it from the water, its singular aspect, its wild site and deserted air—the lighthouse towering seventy feet in height—the neat, comfortable dwellings close under its guardian wing—the sounds of life and industry mingled with the lashing of the sea—and the cry of innumerable birds, ever circling above and around—were altogether of so unwonted a character, that, had I been transported to the antipodes, I could not have felt more unfeigned surprise."—Roscoe.
Few objects on the British coast excite more individual interest than the subject of this illustration. The singularity of its position, the difficulties which attended its erection, the grand objects of humanity to which it has been made subservient, are all calculated to interest the heart, and afford scope for the imagination.
The Southstack islet is about thirty yards from the rock known as the Head; and on this the lighthouse was erected in 1809, under the direction of Captain Evans, of the Royal Navy. Its form is that of a round tower, the foundation of which is a hundred and forty feet, and the light two hundred feet above the sea—so that it embraces within its sphere the whole bay of Caernarvon. The approach by water to this remarkable sanctuary of human life is well calculated to make a lasting impression upon every visitor, and should never be omitted where a favourable opportunity is presented by the state of the weather. It is here that the extremes of natural desolation and human industry are brought into juxtaposition; where human enterprise has established an asylum amidst the ruins of nature, the war of waves, the wreck of tempests, to shed the "light of hope" over the heart of many a despairing mariner.
Happily for the cause of humanity, vast efforts have been made, and are continually making, to diminish where they cannot entirely remove the dangers which have so long invested our native coast; and it is impossible to calculate the number of lives and the amount of merchandise which have thus been saved from imminent destruction. Much, however, still remains to be effected—much that is really practicable—and it is earnestly to be desired that the attention of Government should be constantly directed to those points on which the science of the engineer can be most beneficially employed. Holyhead in particular is still susceptible of vast improvements; and with the addition of a capacious outer harbour, sufficient to admit merchant-vessels and others of larger size than those now frequenting the port, it would speedily realize all that could be wished for by those most interested in the welfare of the place, and in the prosperity of trade. This is also a subject well deserving of attention on the part of the Admiralty; for, with proper accommodation, her Majesty's ships, in the event of a war, might be advantageously stationed at this port, so as to secure free intercourse, and serve as a protection to the coast, which is now in a defenceless condition and open to any attempt at hostile aggression. We are happy that this question has received the consideration of her Majesty's Government; and feel assured that the steps which are now making towards the accomplishment of so great a desideratum will ensure the grateful approbation of the public, and the increased prosperity of Holyhead.
The Southstack, as already mentioned, is cut off from the promontory by a deep chasm thirty yards in width, through which the sea roars and boils with great force and impetuosity. To cross this formidable ravine an oriental rope-bridge was formerly employed, that is—a sliding basket was attached to the cable, which was secured at either side of the abyss; the passenger entered the basket, and by the ingenious working of lateral pulleys it was sent off or hauled in, according to the arrival or departure of visitors. This hempen apparatus was replaced in 1827 by a handsome suspension-bridge, on the same principles as that over the Menai. It was suggested by the intelligent veteran already mentioned, Captain Evans, and has answered every purpose contemplated in its erection. The roadway is five feet in width, and its height above high-water mark is about seventy feet. The airy span of this bridge is highly graceful and picturesque, and adds greatly to the interest of the picture. On the rock, close under the walls of the lighthouse, are several cottages for the use of the Superintendent and those under his command. The different points of view which it comprises are all deeply interesting to a stranger, particularly from the lighthouse, where the sphere of vision is greatly enlarged.
EAGLE TOWER,
CAERNARVON CASTLE.
Caernarvon Castle, of which the Engraving annexed presents so faithful and striking a resemblance, is a subject of no ordinary interest: it generally engrosses the attention of all strangers in these parts, and is, in every sense, one of the noblest specimens of castellated architecture in existence. Like so many others of similar design and execution, this fortress owes its origin to the policy of Edward the First, who built it, according to contemporary history, by appropriating the revenues of the See of York, then vacant, to the purposes of warlike enterprise and ambition. The town is understood to have arisen under the same auspices. The Castle defends it on the south by means of a narrow, deep moat in front. In its west wall are three circular towers, with two others on either side, and a narrow gate or entrance, over which is placed a bare-headed figure with flowing locks,—the statue of the founder,—holding in his left hand a sword, which he draws with his right hand,—or rather, perhaps, is returning to its scabbard, in allusion to the subjugation of the Welsh,—and a defaced shield under his feet. This gate leads to a narrow, oblong court. At the west end is a polygon, or many-sided tower, with three others of hexagonal form above, and eagles sculptured on the battlements, from which it received the name, preserved in the Engraving, of the "Eagle Tower." It is a noble structure, having ten sides, and a staircase of three hundred steps to the battlements. In this tower is the birth-chamber of Edward the Second,—the first Prince of Wales,[1]—whose nativity, on the 25th of April, 1284, was an humiliating epoch to the spirit of Cambrian freedom. The room measures only eleven feet by seven,—dimensions little in accordance with the importance attached to that event,—but still in some measure characteristic of the fortunes of the royal heir, who, after an eventful reign, was destined at last to perish by a horrible death in the dungeon-room of Berkeley Castle. Adjoining this chamber is a semicircular apartment, traditionally described as the King's Nursery.
The Castle and the court which it encloses are very nearly a mile in circumference. From the outside, twelve towers are seen; out of which, as observed in those of Conway Castle, issue several smaller angular turrets, which, relieved against the horizon, produce a very picturesque effect. A gateway on the south side of the Castle is called the Queen's Gate, from the circumstance of Queen Eleanor having entered the fortress through this gate, by a temporary bridge erected for the occasion.
Our limits do not permit us to indulge in more minute description of this vast and imposing fortress, which, from the state of repair in which it is still kept, may brave the changes of season and the fury of the elements for many generations to come. Externally it is still entire, and challenges the admiration of all who have the least taste for what is sublime and striking in architecture. The castle-walls are still washed by the sea on the north and west, as they formerly were on the south. Founded upon a rock, and occupying so strong a position, it might well have been considered impregnable in the absence of gunpowder. Immense as the structure appears, it is said to have been built within the short space of twelve months; a fact which would appear incredible, did we not reflect that in those days of bitter vassalage the will of the sovereign was a law that could not be transgressed without certain destruction to the offenders. If a work was considered impracticable, or of doubtful accomplishment, all hesitation was removed—all difficulties cancelled—by these expressive words, Le Roi l'a voulu! And under the more than magical influence of this laconic phrase, the "towery fortress" of Caernarvon may have sprung into sudden existence.
CAERNARVON CASTLE.
——"Rifled towers
That, beetling o'er the rock, rear the grey crest
Embattled."
The first royal charter granted in the Principality of Wales was that conferred on the town of Caernarvon by Edward the First. It is a place of great historical interest and importance, and, in connexion with its magnificent castle, presents one of the most imposing features on the British coast. The town is not large; but the recent improvements—public and private—which have been carried into effect have materially contributed to its internal convenience and outward embellishment. Of these the Baths demand especial notice, as one of the principal recommendations to strangers and invalids who resort to this part of the Cambrian shore either for health or relaxation. The building in itself is a good specimen of classical taste—combining elegance of design with excellent workmanship, and presenting, in the distribution of its apartments, every convenience for the reception of visiters and invalids, a choice of hot and cold sea-water baths, with the appendage of comfortable dressing-rooms. For those who have the pleasure in the "cold plunge," as the means of bracing the relaxed system by the exercise of swimming, there is excellent accommodation in a capacious bath, appropriated to that salutary purpose, which is refreshed by a constant supply of water drawn by a steam-engine from the sea through iron pipes, and received into large reservoirs of the same metal. This edifice, which combines in an eminent degree the useful and ornamental, was built at the expense of the Marquess of Anglesey, and is said to have cost upwards of ten thousand pounds.
Within the walls this ancient town is intersected by ten streets, crossing each other at right-angles, which, at various points, fix the stranger's attention by those features and recollections of "other times" with which they are so closely associated. Of these, the main or high street runs from the land to the Water-gate, and is a very fair specimen of that architecture which characterises almost all town buildings of the feudal period. Beyond the walls the town assumes a very different character; elegance, taste, and comfort, and those features which mark the progress of art and refinement, are brought into immediate view; while numerous cottages, and several villas of handsome design and finely situated, throw an air of luxury and domestic comfort over the rural suburbs, the natural character of which is highly favourable to buildings of this description. The town is well paved, lighted with gas, and abundantly supplied with water.
The Port of Caernarvon has accommodation for shipping not exceeding four hundred tons burden, and is frequented by a great number of vessels in the coasting-trade, as well as by others in connexion with London, Liverpool, Glasgow, Dublin, Cork, Bristol, and various port-towns in the United Kingdom. The principal exports consist of slate and copper-ore, the inland transport of which has been greatly facilitated since the construction of the railway. The imports are chiefly colonial produce, Birmingham and Manchester goods, and various articles of home-consumption from the London markets. The quay and harbour of Caernarvon, which formerly presented serious obstacles to the shipping interest on account of the bar at the entrance, have been so improved that the danger, if not entirely removed, is at least so far diminished as to excite little apprehension for the safety of the ordinary craft in connexion with this port. To defray the expense of these public works, Government has levied additional port-dues; and it is much to be wished that, in all other harbours of difficult or dangerous access, the same advantages could be obtained on similar conditions.
The town is now, agreeably to the Municipal Act, divided into two wards, and governed by a mayor, six aldermen, and eighteen councillors. In addition to the picturesque civic retreats already alluded to, as giving so much animation to the native scenery, the neighbourhood is embellished with the baronial seats of the Marquess of Anglesey, Lord Boston, and Lord Newborough. The ruins of Segontium, several Roman stations, part of a military road, and a considerable number of primitive domestic edifices, are among the chief objects of antiquity which deserve the attention of visiters to this neighbourhood.
HARLECH CASTLE,
NORTH WALES.
"The tower that long had stood
The crash of thunder and the warring winds.
Shook by the slow but sure destroyer—Time,
Now hangs in doubtful ruins o'er its base."
Harlech Castle, according to the Welsh historians, derives its origin from Maelgwyn Gwynedd, prince of North Wales, who flourished at the commencement of the sixth century. The present castle appears to have been rebuilt by Edward I., on the foundations of the original fortress, portions of which are still observable in the masonry of the latter epoch, so well known as the "castle-building reign" in England. In the reign of Henry IV. the castle was seized by Owen Glendower, but was retaken four years later; and, after the battle of Northampton, in 1460, afforded temporary shelter to Margaret of Anjou.
In 1468, the castle of Harlech was captured, after a short siege, by the Earl of Pembroke; of whom Sir John Wynne, in his history of the Gwydir family, quotes some Cambrian lines expressive of the ravages committed by him in the counties of Merioneth and Denbigh at that unhappy period. The last of the many tempestuous scenes with which this fortress has been visited occurred in 1647, when William Owen, with a garrison of only twenty men, surrendered it to Cromwell's forces under General Mytton; but this was not accomplished till every other castle in Wales had deserted the royal cause.
This castle is a strong square building, with a round-tower at each angle, and one of the same form at each side of the gateway. Besides these there are four other turrets, smaller and higher, which rise above the towers at the angles, and are in a more dilapidated state. The entrance is under a pointed arch, which formerly contained six gates of massive strength and construction. Although the roofs, doors, and casements of this interesting stronghold have long disappeared, it still presents in the distance an air of even habitable preservation. There are the remains of stone staircases in every tower, and in the area one of these, leading to the top of the battlements, is still entire. In all the rooms fire-places, with pointed arches, are visible, as well as window recesses, which in the state apartments are three in a row, and of spacious dimensions; while those in the smaller rooms gradually contract outwards till they terminate in a "slit" or loophole, as in most other castles of this style and period.
The view of Harlech Castle is among the finest in this picturesque and interesting country; the situation is commanding, and the effect of these venerable towers and battlements, as they first burst upon the traveller's eye, is strikingly bold and impressive. His fancy is hurried back to the days of other times: the shades of native harpers and native heroes flit before his eye; history and romance divide the empire of his mind; and for a time he rests with mute but intense interest on these castellated landmarks of Cambrian history.
The rock upon which the fortress is built rises from the Gamlas,—a level marsh, resembling water in the distance, nearly a mile in breadth, and which it is probable was once covered by the sea. On the side overlooking this marsh, the rock is precipitous, and steep at either end. In front it is on a level with the town of Harlech, from which it is separated only by a deep trench or moat, and overlooked by a group of magnificent mountains in the rear, from which the view is sublime. The whole platform of the rock is occupied by the castle, except a narrow belt of about four or five feet in width, forming a beautiful green path, which winds round the outer walls, skirting the very brink of the precipice.
The town of Harlech is an ancient free burgh, and originally one of the chief places in the county of Merioneth. It is now reduced to the condition of a secondary village, has a corporation governed by a mayor, is one of the polling-places for the county members, and is enlivened during the year by several periodical fairs and weekly markets.
Various objects of antiquity have been discovered from time to time in the neighbourhood of Harlech. In 1692 an ancient gold torque was dug up in a garden near the castle. It is in the form of a wreathed bar, or several rods twisted together, about four feet long, flexible, bent in the form of a hat-band, neither sharp nor twisted, but plain, evenly cut, an inch in circumference, and in weight about eight ounces. This interesting relic is an heir-loom in the Mostyn family. Several coins of the Roman empire have also been found in and near this town, which afford indisputable evidence of its great antiquity. The distance of Harlech from London is two hundred and twenty-nine miles.
BARMOUTH:
OR, ABERMAW.
"Here, beneath the mountain's brow,
Hygëia hears the pilgrim's vow;
Here the breath of summer seas,
The balm of morn, the evening breeze,
The charms of a romantic land,
Refresh and gem the Cambrian strand,—
Where still the muse of Cymry lingers,
And strikes the harp with raptured fingers."
Barmouth, the only port in Merionethshire, occupies a romantic situation at the mouth of the river Mawddach, where the tide at high-water forms a bay of about a mile across, but rather hazardous, owing to the shifting sandbanks by which the channel is interrupted. Overhung by lofty mountains, which leave no adequate space for the horizontal expansion of the village, the houses appear to hang almost perpendicularly from the steep side of the cliffs, so that the chimneys of the one appear to be the foundation of the other. They form eight successive tiers or terraces, to which there is no better approach than by steps hewn in the rock.
This romantic village, which consists of only one irregular street, is much frequented as sea-bathing quarters, for which it has every accommodation, and, in respect to bold and picturesque scenery, has few rivals in the whole Principality. The sea-beach affords every facility for pedestrian exercise; the walks along the banks of the river are numerous, and command the most striking points of view; while regular assemblies, and some of the best Cambrian harps, promote social intercourse and hilarity among the visitors, and give a stir and animation to the whole neighbourhood.
Barmouth, says Mr. Roscoe, is considered to the north-west part of the kingdom, much like Weymouth and other fashionable watering-places to the south, and is resorted to during the summer months, not only by numbers of families in the Principality, but by many others residing in the surrounding counties. The sands are very fine and hard, extending along the beach for several miles, and the bathing is at all times as excellent as can be desired. The restless tides of the Channel dashing against the surrounding coast produce that constant and salubrious motion, which is extended to the waters of the bay. There are two convenient inns, the "Commercial," and the "Cors y Gedol Arms," besides a number of respectable lodging-houses.
The town has the benefit of weekly markets, with an excellent supply of fish and poultry, at a cheap rate, and is further enlivened by two annual fairs, in October and November. The native manufactures consist chiefly of flannel and hosiery, a great quantity of which is exported. The other exports consist of corn, butter, cheese, oak-bark, timber, &c.; the imports, of coal, culm, and other articles for the use of the interior.
The number of small coasting-vessels, and others belonging to this haven that trade with Ireland, is stated at a hundred or upwards; and commercial business, upon the whole, is considered to be in a flourishing state.
The distance of Barmouth from London is two hundred and twenty-two miles, and it communicates with Caernarvon by a cross-mail. The resident population is considerably under two thousand, but is greatly augmented during the bathing season. The shipping at the pier communicates to the place a particular air of prosperity and cheerfulness, and gives employment to a very considerable portion of the inhabitants.
"The beauties of the road from Llanilltyd to Barmouth," says Mr. Pratt, "are so manifold and extraordinary that they literally beggar description. New pastures of the most exuberant fertility, new woods rising in all the majesty of foliage, the road itself curving in numberless unexpected directions,—at one moment shut into a verdant recess, so contracted that there seems neither carriage nor bridle-way out of it, and at another the azure expanse of the main ocean filling the eye. On one side, rocks glittering in all the colours of that beauty which constitutes the sublime, and of a height which diminishes the wild herds that browse, or look down upon you from the summit, where the largest animal appears insignificantly minute. On the other hand, plains, villas, cottages, or copses, with whatever belongs to that milder grace which appertains to the beautiful."
SWANSEA BAY.
GLAMORGANSHIRE.
"In front, the Bay its crystal wave expands,
Whose rippling waters kiss the glittering sands
Far o'er its bosom, ships with spreading sails
Export the ores from Cambria's sunny vales.
Above—yon feudal bulwarks crown the steep,
Whose rocky base repels the stormy deep;
Here health is found,—there Industry resides,—
And Freedom on her native shore abides."
The reputation which Swansea has long enjoyed as a delightful watering-place has suffered no diminution in consequence of the numerous rivals with which this coast is so agreeably diversified. As bathing quarters, it enjoys peculiar advantages in its shore, which is admirably adapted for that purpose; while the adjacent scenery, and the various objects of interest or curiosity with which it abounds, serve as pleasing incentives to exercise and recreation,—the happy effects of which are soon observable in the health and appearance of invalids who make choice of Swansea as their summer residence. Every resource which visitors can desire, for promoting either health of body or agreeable occupation for the mind, is here amply provided. Warm, sea-water, and vapour, baths,—public rooms, billiard-tables, reading-rooms, circulating libraries,—with comfortable private lodgings and excellent hotels, are among the list of daily luxuries at their command.
The Harbour of Swansea is capacious,—well constructed, defended by two strong stone piers, about eighteen hundred feet in length,—and affords accommodation to a great many trading-vessels. On the west pier, a light-house and watch-tower offer additional security to the shipping; and every facility is provided for lading and unlading. The tide flows a considerable way up the river, which is navigable to the extent of two miles for vessels of burden. The canal, running parallel with the river, extends to Brecknockshire, a distance of sixteen miles; and in its course passes through thirty-six locks, and over several aqueducts. Its head is nearly four hundred feet higher than its mouth, which readily accounts for the great number of locks. There is also a canal from the Swansea to the Neath canal, on which a packet-boat is established, and a tram-road from the former to Oystermouth. With Bristol and Ilfracombe there is a regular communication kept up by means of steam-vessels, which leave and arrive according to the state of the tide.
The public buildings of Swansea—ancient and modern—are numerous in proportion to the population. The Town-hall, erected in 1829, is an elegant structure, approached by two flights of steps, and adorned with columns of the Doric order. The castle, situated nearly in the centre of the town, was originally a building of great extent, and of a strength well suited to the purposes of its erection. A massive tower, surmounted by a range of light arches which support a parapet, is the principal part now remaining of this once redoubtable fortress. It appears to have been founded at the remote epoch of 1113, by Henry Beaumont, Earl of Warwick,—a Norman leader who conquered Gowerland; but being soon after laid siege to by a Welsh chief,—Griffith ap Rhys ap Theodore,—a considerable portion of the outworks was destroyed. It is now in the possession of the Duke of Beaufort, "Earl" of Glamorgan, who is hereditarily entitled to the "prisage and butlerage" of all wines brought into the harbours of Swansea and Chepstow.
The public rooms of Swansea stand on the north side of the promenade, called the Burrows, which consist of several acres tastefully laid out in parterres. Here also are an excellent House of Industry and an Infirmary, established in 1817 and situated on the beach. Besides the free Grammar-school, founded in the seventeenth century, by Hugh, Bishop of Waterford and Lismore, there are the Lancasterian and National-schools, which are incalculable blessings to the increasing population of Swansea.
OYSTERMOUTH CASTLE.
"Here—the 'grim-visor'd knight,' at the head of his band,
Has cased him in armour, and girt on his brand;
While Beauty looked down from her lattice on high,
With the 'smile on her lip and the tear in her eye.'
But victor nor vassal shall hither return:—
The castle is roofless,—the chief's in his urn;
And those ramparts, that frown o'er the surf-beaten rocks,
Are the haunt of the sea-fowl,—the lair of the fox."
This stately relic of the feudal ages overlooks the picturesque Bay of Swansea, and attracts many strangers to its gate,—not only for its venerable antiquity, but for its bold position on the verge of lofty and abrupt limestone cliffs, which command a magnificent view of the subjacent scenery. It is supposed by some to have been erected by the Earl of Warwick, in the reign of Henry the First; by others, to have been the family fortress of the Lords of Gower, in the reign of King John. But to which of the two the credit of founder belongs is matter of conjecture. Like the Castle of Swansea, already mentioned, it is now the property of the Beaufort family, whose mineral possessions in this district are said to be of incalculable value.
The principal walls of this domestic fortress have suffered comparatively little from the lapse of time, or the hand of violence. Most of the original apartments may be easily traced out, so as to give a tolerably correct idea of their shape and dimensions, and the internal economy with which they were arranged. The general figure of the main body is polygonal; the ramparts are lofty and massive, but not flanked with towers, except at the entrance, which appears to have been strongly secured by double gates and a portcullis.
In many parts along this picturesque coast, the limestone rocks swell over a fine sandy beach into perpendicular cliffs of great boldness, exhibiting vast quantities of organic remains, and worn in many places into deep and lofty caverns. Built on a cliff of this description, and with all the necessary accessories of vigilance and security, it could have been hardly possible to have selected anything more eligible for a feudal keep, whose chiefs generally chose their fortalices as the eagle chooses his eyry,—to secure a wide field for himself, and exclude lesser birds of prey.
The village of Oystermouth—about half a mile to the south of the castle—occupies a beautiful position on the verge of the Bay. A lofty rock throws its shadow over it; the headland of which, called the Mumble Point, stretches far into the sea, and affords a safe anchorage for shipping. The village is chiefly inhabited by fishermen, who, as the name implies, are mostly employed in dredging for oysters, which are found of superior quality in the adjoining bay. During summer, it is much resorted to by strangers, for the benefit of sea-bathing,—a source of annual revenue to the inhabitants, who, by letting their apartments, secure very good returns.
This is understood to be the natal soil of Gower,—the father of English poetry,—and therefore classic ground:—
"Here, in the olden time the 'moral' Gower
Attuned his harp upon that rocky strand;
Gather'd the shell, and pluck'd the vernal flower,
And struck the wild chord with a master's hand.
To him the summer sea, the stormy wave,
Were heaven-born music in their various keys;
As, thundering through yon subterranean cave,
The billows sang in chorus with the breeze."
The railway from Oystermouth to Swansea is a source of great convenience to the inhabitants, as a means of ready intercourse between the most frequented points of the coast adjacent. Newton, proverbially known as a healthy station for invalids and sea-bathers, and Caswell Bay, within half-an-hour's walk of Oystermouth, are well deserving of a stranger's attention. The latter is remarkable for the number and extent of the marine caverns already alluded to, as well as for the beauty and variety of the sea-shells with which the sands at low water are profusely enamelled.
THE MUMBLES' LIGHTHOUSE.
"Amidst the storms,—when winds and waves are high,
Unmoved I stand,—undimm'd I shed my light;
And through the blackness of December's sky
I pour effulgence on the seaman's sight."
Inscription for a Lighthouse.
The Mumbles' Lighthouse is much frequented by visitors from Swansea during the season. Few jaunts of this character can be productive of more enjoyment than a trip from Swansea to Oystermouth Castle and the Mumbles' rocks. The road, issuing from the western extremity of Swansea, follows the shore of the bay, with the open sea on the left, and on the right a range of wooded hills; of which advantage has been taken for the site of numerous pretty villas. Some gentlemen's seats occupy the intervening level, and their plantations skirt the high-road. Of these Singleton Abbey and Woodlands are the principal. As we near the extremity of the bay the scene is indeed beautiful. Oystermouth Castle, and the pretty village of the same name, lead the visitor onwards till he reaches a broken, breezy headland, the only ascent to which is by a kind of sheep-path, which zig-zags its way to the summit of a narrow promontory terminating in two islands, and on the farther of which is situated the Mumbles' Lighthouse. It is a structure admirably adapted for the purpose to which it is devoted. To every building of this description, devoted to the preservation of human life, a profound interest is attached; and we cannot but observe at a single glance how invaluable these Lights have been, and ever must be, where the danger of shipwreck is so greatly increased by the rugged nature of a coast—here walled in by precipitous cliffs, and there scattered with rocks that appear and disappear according to the tide. The means thus happily adopted along the Welsh coast have been crowned with success; and how comfortable is it to reflect, when calmly seated at our winter hearths, that—while the "winds howl round our steady battlements," and "ships break from their moorings,"—there are friendly lights sparkling around our coasts, to cheer and direct the bewildered mariner in his course, to show him his danger, and to point out "a way to escape."
To understand the importance of lighthouses, we need only remind the reader of the published "Statement," that the number of British vessels alone, which have been annually returned as wrecked, amounts to five hundred and fifty;—namely, "three shipwrecks every two days throughout the year." The average burden of merchant-vessels is about one hundred and ten tons; and if we value old and new together at half the price of building, we have £330,000 for the worth of the whole, which, by deducting the value of sails, masts, and other materials saved from some of those stranded, may be reduced to £300,000. If we add an equal sum for the cost of the cargoes, the whole loss from shipwrecks will amount to £600,000. This statement proceeds on an old estimate from 1793 to 1829; but M'Culloch, in the supplement to his Dictionary, says that the number of ships actually lost, or driven ashore, in 1833, amounted to eight hundred. It is probable, then, that the annual lost by shipwreck is not much short of a million sterling. If one-fifth of this loss could be prevented by additional lighthouses, the saving of money would amount to a million in five years,—to say nothing of the still more important saving in human life. We are anxious—not on the score of economy only, but of humanity—to place these lamentable facts before the eyes of Government, from whose hands the mitigation at least, if not the removal, of such disasters is confidently expected.
In the rock immediately under the lighthouse is a large cavern, called Bob's Cove,—a very characteristic feature, and a chief attraction to pleasure-parties, who resort hither at low water for the sake of the view, which from this isolated point is very striking and variegated:—
"Town and hamlet, sea and shore,
Wooded steep and mountain hoar;
Ships that stem the waters blue,
All concentrate in the view."
Expanding to the eastward, is the beautiful curve of Swansea Bay and the distant mountains; on the westward, the broken coast of Gower; in front, the boundless expanse of ocean. The bracing sea breezes inhaled upon this exposed promontory, its elastic turf, and the magnificent prospect it everywhere commands, never fail to produce a most agreeable and salutary exhilaration, and constitute the finest medical and physical tour in the world.
THE NASS SANDS LIGHTHOUSES.
"After our ship did split,
When you, and that poor number saved with you,
Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother,
Most provident in peril, bind himself—
Courage and hope both teaching him the practice—
To a strong mast that lived upon the sea,
Where, like Orion on the dolphin's back,
I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves
So long as I could see."
Twelfth Night.
The Nass Lights were erected by the late Mr. Nelson, in 1832, under the direction of the Trinity House. The eastern, or upper Light, burns at the height of one hundred and sixty-seven feet, and the western, or lower one, at one hundred and twenty-three feet above high-water mark. They are one thousand feet apart, built of the stone of the country, and stand on Nass Point, near Dunraven Castle, Glamorganshire.
It unfortunately was not merely the dangers of the ocean to which the luckless mariner was in past times exposed upon this iron-bound coast, to them was too frequently added the infamous deceptions of the wreckers, who were accustomed to resort to the artifice of driving to and fro an ass bearing two lanterns, so as to represent a distant vessel in motion, and thus lured many a ship to destruction among the rocks and sands. Numerous are the legends of fearful interest which the older inhabitants relate descriptive of the accidents attendant upon these murderous practices, now happily only matters of history.
The erection of lighthouses, beacons, and other means for the prevention of shipwreck, is every year becoming an object of greater importance to the members of that excellent corporation, the Trinity House. Within the last thirty years, great and permanent advantages have been secured to commerce by the vigilance and activity of that body. Much, however, is still left to call aloud for the exercise of their high privilege, skill, and humanity. The navigation of our coasts is still attended in many parts with imminent danger. Rocks, and shoals, and quicksands, indeed, cannot be obliterated by the hand of man; but the perils they involve, in respect to the shipping, may be greatly diminished by increasing the number of those monitory beacons to which the eye of the mariner is so often turned with intense anxiety. The erection of the two lighthouses which here illustrate the subject, has been attended with the happiest consequences. Many a shipwreck, we will venture to say, has been prevented by a timely regard to these friendly beacons. The Bristol Channel has often been the scene of sad catastrophes in the chronicles of seafaring life; but at present the danger to the foreign and coasting-trade has been greatly obviated by those judicious measures which have emanated from the above society.
The voyage up the Bristol Channel is singularly romantic and beautiful; but the coast is exposed to all the fury of the Atlantic, and the surf against the cliffs is distinctly visible at Swansea. The steamers now keep close along shore, in a channel inside the Nass Sands, which form an extensive and dangerous bank to seaward. The contrast between the tumultuous masses of breakers over these sands, when the wind is fresh, and the calmness of the narrow channel we are traversing in security, is very striking. These sands, and another large shoal, called the Skerweathers, have been fatal to many vessels. A large West Indiaman, with a cargo of rum and other valuable produce, was lost a few years ago on a rock called the Tusca, which disappears at high-water; and in 1831, this coast was fatal to the steamer Frolic, in which all the crew and passengers, amounting to nearly eighty persons, perished. The coast near Porthcaul appears at Swansea to be the eastern extremity of the bay; but the bluff point called the Nass, about eight miles further, is literally so. The coast onwards, past the Nass-point, as observed in the admirable Engraving annexed, is almost perpendicular, so as closely to resemble a lofty wall, in which the limestone rock is disposed in horizontal strata. When the sea runs high in this quarter, the scene, as may be readily conceived, is truly terrific—
"And not one vessel 'scapes the dreadful touch
Of merchant-marring rocks."
Merchant of Venice.