MANORBEER CASTLE,Pembrokeshire.

Manorbeer Castle.Near the Church.

Manorbeer Castle.

Near the Church.

Manoberturribus et propugnaculis erat eximium, ab occidente portum extensum a Circio et Barea, sub ipsis muralibus vivarium habens egregium tam sua venustate, quam aquarum profunditate conspicuum.”—Gyrald.

MANORBEER, another of those feudal strongholds with which the Principality abounds, possesses an additional interest as the birth-place of Giraldus Cambrensis, a sketch of whose life will be found in these pages.

The Castle, says Leland, “stands between two little hillettes”—the rocky bases of which repel the fury of a boisterous sea—and is very imposing as we come upon it, through an antiquated village of Flemish-looking houses, with singular chimneys—old as the Castle itself. It is called Manorbeer, or Maenor Byrr, from its being the manor of the Lords, or the mansion or manor of Byrr. It occupies the crest of a hill, which commands an extensive prospect of land and sea—the latter expanding its waves, until they are enclosed by the distant promontory of St. Gowan’s Head, and presenting at times a scene of great animation by the numerous vessels that glide along the coast. With its sheltered green park on one hand, a bare hill, with the slender tower of the old Norman church, on the other, and the whole mass as if suspended over the sea-beach that takes its angle and curve from the protruding rocks, the scene presents a combination of features that never fail to impress the stranger with mingled sentiments of picturesque beauty, solitude, and desolation.

The Castleof Manorbeer is a capacious Norman edifice of the first class, with massive towers, ponderous and lofty gates, high embattled walls with loopholes, but no windows in the exterior. It presents the characteristic features of a stronghold, whose chief, at once hated and feared, retained possession of his conquered manor by no better security than that of armed retainers—vassals and mercenaries, whose rights and sense of justice were measured by their swords.

The Gatewayforms a grand and imposing feature; and through this, the principal entrance, we reach the interior Court, upon which the windows of the quadrangle open, and discover the apartments once occupied by the Baron and his family—who were thus barred in from the fair face of nature, and condemned to consider security and seclusion ample compensation for the sacrifice of other advantages. Here the justice was retributive; for he who plotted against the rights and liberties of his fellow-creatures, was little better than a prisoner in his own Castle; and, even among his sworn retainers, had often cause to suspect an assassin, and to be the reluctant slave of those fears which no doubling of his “tried sentinels” could exclude.

The Outworksof the Castle are extensive, and worthy appendages to what is considered “a perfect model of a Norman Baron’s residence,” the general characteristics of which were the following:—The simple rude tower of the Anglo-Saxon was enlarged and improved into what, taking its name from the builder, was called a Gundulph Keep, the entrance to which was at a great height. It was approached by a grand staircase, which went partly round two of the outside fronts of the Castle, and ended in a grand portal, before which was a drawbridge. The entrance was indispensably gradual. The first step in advance was the drawbridge, with a gate about the middle of the staircase, to arrive at the portal. Secondly, upon arriving at this point, you found it merely the entrance to a small annexed tower, the whole of which might be demolished without injury to the body of the Castle. This tower was for the use of the guard or sentinel. Within this tower was a sort of vestibule, and from thence was a second entrance—the real entrance to the Keep—through a second portal, placed in the thickness of the walls. Both the first and second portals were defended by a portcullis and double gates; so that there were three strong gates to be forced, and two portcullises to be destroyed, before even this entrance could be gained. In the thickness of the wall were two niches, in addition to the second portal, for wardours or sentinels. Besides this, there was the sally-port, another small entrance—ascended only by a movable ladder—which had no communication with the floor above, except by a “small winding staircase, that, from its narrowness and form, could easily be defended by one man, and to which additional security was provided by strong doors. On the

Ground floor—as already observed in this Castle—there were no windows, very few loopholes, and those so constructed that no missile thrown in could reach farther than the bottom of the arch. In the first floor there were no windows, but only loopholes within the tower itself. In the second floor the windows were so high that no weapon discharged into them could take effect,as it struck the arch of the window, and dropped harmless on the floor. On the side near the principal entrance there were no windows nor lights whatever—not even loopholes on the same side as the entrance and top of the staircase, because, if so placed, they would have been exposed to an enemy who, having once gained the steps, was attempting to force the portal. In

The Vestibulewere large windows, because—as the author of the “Monumenta” supposes—that place was of no importance in a siege: but this opinion is considered by others to be untenable. A full command of view was here indispensable; and that this was the object may be inferred from the loopholes and windows being in an inverted order to what they are in the great one, and from the vestibule being immediately over the dungeon, so that, on any attempt at attack, escape or rescue would be detected. On the

Third story, which contained the state apartments, there was a gallery within the walls for the conveyance of orders. Mr. King, in his description of fortified buildings, has noticed a stone arch and false portals, a round angular tower, and anaffectedappearance of weakness in the small square tower and vestibule, as deceptions to mislead the enemy. But this, as observed by Fosbroke, is questionable; for such expedients do not occur in all castles of this era—and, had they been usual, must have been too well known to mislead the enemy. The lower apartments of these strongholds were reserved as storerooms for the use of the household and retainers.

The Dungeon, for the security of prisoners, was beneath the ground floor of the Keep, with which it communicated by a steep, dark, and narrow staircase. It had, of course, no windows nor loopholes; and the only aperture for the admission of air was a trap-door in the vestibule. A gutter carried off water from the floor, which, for this purpose, was made sloping towards it.

In the centreof the main walls were square wells, opening at bottom into arches, for the removal and distribution of stores to the upper apartments; and through the solid walls, also, flues were perforated for the conveyance of information by the voice. And these contrivances, with considerable improvements, continue in our own times to facilitate domestic intercourse in large establishments. In the centre of the partition wall—as seen at Rochester[394]—was a well for water—like the shaft of a coal pit—going from the bottom of the tower up to the very leads; and over every successive floor were small arches in the wall, forming a communication between the pipe of the well and the several apartments, so that, by means of a pulley, water could be distributed to every part of the Castle. The fireplaces in general were semicircular arches—as already shown and described in this work. The chimneys were in the form of a slopingcone, and terminated in loopholes. In some instances, as at Chepstow, they were covered internally with a hard glazing of cement, so as to prevent the accumulation and lodgment, and facilitate the removal, of fuliginous matter on the surface. The great chimney of Raglan Castle is a fine specimen of its kind, and so capacious as to appear like the perpendicular shaft of a deep well. The sinks are similar cones, but ending sideways, obliquely, to prevent the introduction of weapons. The great state apartments of the Castle consisted of three rooms: of these, the two principal ones were separated only by large arches, open at the top, so that there might be a free circulation of air; but under the arch was a partition wall, in later times of oak-panelling, for hanging the arras.

Such are a few of the characteristic features of a Norman fortress of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries—the model upon which the great castles of Wales were constructed by Edward the First—of which various particulars have been already given, and others will be found interspersed in subsequent portions of this work.

While wandering over the ruins of these dilapidated strongholds, of whose founders it may here be truly said—stat nominis umbra, we are humbled into a sense of the vain and fragile tenor by which all earthly possessions are held. “There the thistle shakes its lonely head; the moss whistles to the winds; the fox looks out from the windows, the rank grass of the wall waves round his head. Desolate is the dwelling of Moina; silence is in the house of her fathers.”

“Thrice happier he who tends his sheepWhere yonder lowly cot appears;Than Baron in his iron Keep,Encircled by his glittering spears.”

The Churchof Manorbeer stands upon a high slope, fronting the south side of the Castle, and forms an interesting feature in the landscape. It is of Norman architecture, consisting of a tall square tower, chancel, and nave, divided by a row of massive and rudely-fashioned pillars. In the north side of the chancel is the monument of a Crusader—one of those enthusiastic knights, perhaps, who, having heard the preaching of Archbishop Baldwin, obeyed the summons and followed his lion-hearted Sovereign to the Holy Land. The effigy, reposing under a plain canopy, represents a warrior in ring and plate armour, the legs croisés, and the shield charged with theBarriarms. An effigy is also pointed out on the same side as that of Giraldus Cambrensis, or Barri, whose life and literary merits we have so often had occasion to notice. On the south side of the church are the remains of a “Chantry or Collegiate building,” erected probably by one of the Barri family, who, in 1092, joined Fitz-Hamon in his maraudingenterprise against a native prince of the country, and afterwards, as we have seen, divided the conquered land, inSeigneuries, among his twelve knights and retainers.

The Founderof Manorbeer, so far as we have ascertained, does not make any distinct figure in history. He was one of the mass of Norman warriors, who, by their collective strength, personal courage, and vaulting ambition, made themselves alternately the dread and the support of Royalty; and who—each in his feudal demesne, within the gates of his own castle—were absolute sovereigns. And yet few will deny, that out of the accumulated evils, that like clouds collected and darkened for a time the apparent destiny of Wales, permanent good was elicited. In the words of a great poet:—

“Still the ramparted groundWith a vision my fancy inspires,And I hear the trump sound,As it marshalled our Chivalry’s sires.On each turf of that mead,Stood the captors of England’s domains,That ennobled her breed,And high mettled the blood in her veins!O’er hauberk and helm—As the sun’s setting splendour was thrown—Thence they look’d o’er a realm,And the morrow beheld it their own!”

Wherever they were victorious in battle, there they built a stronghold. What was gained by violence, was to be held by the same means: while superior knowledge—superior tactics—the confidence of men accustomed to victory—of plausible designs and refined policy—were more than a match for mere “abettors in a good cause,” who could oppose nothing to the practised arms of the invader but the brute force of undisciplined hordes, whose indomitable love of home and freedom furnished them with courage to vindicate their country; and where that failed, with resolution to perish in the attempt. But we need not here enlarge upon the merits of a struggle which was protracted for centuries; and if at last the Norman made good his footing within the Welsh border, it was only after numerous checks and discomfitures, at a cost which no other nation could have incurred, and by a system of warfare in which success was often the result of accident, and where the laws of humanity were too often trampled under foot.

Giraldus Cambrensiswas born at Manorbeer about the year 1146. He was sent on three different occasions to France, for the sake of improvement; and prosecuted his studies with so much diligence and success, as to give him an honourable position among the learned men of that early period. He obtained great reputation in rhetoric, which soon brought him into notice; and he wassuccessively promoted, to a canonry in the cathedral of Hereford, and to the archdeaconry of Brecon. In the thirtieth year of his age he was elected, by the Chapter ofSt. David’s, bishop of that see; but the King’s approbation being withheld, he resolved to make another journey into France, and resume his studies in the University of Paris. On his return home, a few years afterwards, he found the whole country in a state of violent excitement, the canons and archdeacon of Menevia having joined with the inhabitants in driving out the bishop of that see, the administration of which was committed to Barri by the Archbishop of Canterbury. Under this authority he governed the see ofSt. David’sfor three or four years, and made many reformations in it.

The next event in his life was the King’s command, in 1185, to attend the young PrinceJohninto Ireland. Two years afterwards he returned to Wales, and employed most of his time in writing and revising hisTopographia, to which, after putting the last hand, he proceeded to Oxford, and read it in a public audience of the University.[395]But the incident in his life which more particularly entitles him to a notice in this place, is the fact of his having accompanied Archbishop Baldwin in his progress through Wales, and with him, also, visited and described the principal features of the country.

The object of this progress—as above noticed—was to preach a crusade for the recovery of the Holy Land, for which the lion-heartedRichard, accompanied by the flower of his nobility, had already set out. Giraldus, smit with the same enthusiasm which he endeavoured to kindle in others, took up theCross. On his departure for the Holy Land, the King left the chief government of the realm in the hands of William Longchamp, Bishop of Ely, and appointed Giraldus to act with him in the commission; but this could not be valid until he obtained a dispensation from the Pope’s legate for discontinuing the voyage.

In 1190, the Bishop of Ely and the Pope’s legate offered him the see of Bangor; and again, the following year, Prince John offered him the bishopric of Llandaff; both of which he declined, in hopes that the see of St. David’s, on which he had set his heart, might one day fall to his lot. The following year Girald retired from court; and, removing to Lincoln, wrote several works which bear his name. Here he continued until the death of Peter, Bishop of St. David’s, in 1198, when he was nominated to the vacant see, but rejected by Herbert, Archbishop of Canterbury, who sent a mandate to the Canons to elect and admitGeoffrey, Prior ofLlanthony, for their bishop. Giraldappealed to the Pope and the Canons by letter, entreating his Holiness to consecrate him. He took a journey to Rome, and there presented the letter in person. The Prior of Llanthony, furnished with letters from the Archbishop, did the same; and the Pope, seeing no likelihood of the cause being speedily determined, appointed Giraldus administrator, both in spiritualities and temporalities of the bishopric of St. David’s, and sent him home.

But in November, 1202, Giraldus was induced to make a third visit to Rome, where he continued until the 15th of April following; on which day the Pope gave a definitive sentence in the cause, and vacated the claims of both candidates. In the month of August, Giraldus returned home to solicit a new election; but in spite of the opposition, Geoffrey of Llanthony was elected by the Canons. Giraldus finding it useless to oppose the Archbishop, resigned all further pretensions to the see of St. David’s; and shortly after resigned the archdeaconry of Brecon to his nephew. The remainder of his life seems to have been spent in retirement, where he composed many works. But there is no evidence of his having taken an active part in any public affairs, political or ecclesiastical; and as he was subsequently offered the bishopric of St. David’s [in 1215], it was on conditions which compelled him to reject the very see to which he had so ardently aspired. The year of his death is not mentioned: but in 1220, as we ascertain from contemporary documents, he was still living.

With a very excusable partiality for his native place, he has transmitted to posterity the following description of its beauties, natural and artificial:—

“Maenorpyrris distant about three miles from Penbroch. The Castle is excellently well defended by turrets and bulwarks. On the right hand a rivulet[396]of never-failing water flows through a valley, rendered sandy by the violence of the winds.”... “The country is well supplied with corn, seafish, and imported wines, and is tempered by a salubrious air.Demetia—or territory of St. David’s, with its seven cantreds—is the most beautiful as well as the most powerful district of Wales: Penbroch is the finest province of Demetia, and the place I have now described is the most delightful part of Penbroch. It is evident, therefore, that Maenorpyrr is theParadiseof all Wales.”

“So fares it with the things of earthWhich seem most constant: there will come the cloudThat shall enfold them up, and leave their placeA seat for emptiness. Our narrow kenReaches too far, when all that we beholdIs but the havoc of wide-wasting Time—Or what he soon shall spoil.”

WE learn from Bishop Tanner, that Richard deGrainville, and Constance, his wife, gave their chapel,[397]in the Castle atNethe, the tithes belonging to it, a large tract of waste land, and other possessions, in the time of Henry I., to the abbot and convent of Savigny, near Lyons, that they might build an abbey here in Wales. And a very fair abbey, dedicated to the Holy Trinity, was built accordingly on the west side of the river, a little below the town of Neath, for monks of the order of Savigny, orFratres Grisei, who soon afterwards became Cistercians.

Notwithstanding the original gift to Savigny, as we learn from the same authority, he did not find any proof that this house was ever subject to that foreign abbey, or accounted as an alien priory. Being an abbey, it could not be a cell; and appears rather to have been a daughter-house to Savigny, in the same way as already described in our account of the two Llanthonys—mother and daughter. In the Appendix to the Monasticon may be seen the founder’s charter, with two subsequent charters of confirmation from King John.[398]From a manuscript notice in Benet’s College, Cambridge, we learn that, at the time of the dissolution, there were only eight monks in Neath Abbey. In the twenty-sixth of Henry VIII., the gross revenue of the house amounted to £150. 4s. 9d., the clear income to £132. 7s. 7-1/4d. The site was granted to Sir Richard Williams, alias Cromwell,[399]in exchange.

The Sealof the abbey represented the Blessed Virgin, crowned and standing, holding in her right hand a lily, in her left the infant Jesus; in a base, a shield with the arms ofGrainvillethe founder—namely, three clarions: the legend—“Sigillvm. Comvne. Monaster. Beate. Marie. de Neth.” A very imperfect impression of this seal is to be seen in the Augmentation Office.

In Moore’s Monastic Remains, it has been observed, in a passage quoted from Leland, that Neath Abbey was ‘once the fairest in all Wales;’ and, from the ruins still remaining, much credit may be given to this description. The west end, excepting the great arch, was tolerably perfect in 1788; but previously to that time the east end and principal part of the nave had been demolished, while the lateral aisles remained covered with ivy. In addition to these, several apartments of the abbey were still standing on the south side of the church.

This monastery is said to have been so extensive, that seven preachers might hold forth at the same time in different parts of the building, without being mutually heard; but in the present day the crypt is the only characteristic feature that is left. The ruins, however—spread over an extensive area—still afford accommodation for numerous workmen employed in the famous iron-works of the place. It was in the Abbey-house of Neath, where he had taken refuge, that the unfortunate King Edward the Second was arrested:—

“Whither,” says the Chronicle, in a passage at once pathetic and picturesque,—“whither, in the meane space, doth woeful Edward flye? What force, what course, what way takes he, poore Prince? Oh! fearful condition of so great a monarche’s state, when a wife, a son, a kingdome arenottrusted; and those onlyaretrusted, who had nothing strong but a will to live and die with him!”... “The Queen, passing from Oxford to Gloucester, onward to the siege of Bristol Castle, grew all the whyle in her strength like a rouled snowball, or as a river, which spreads still broader from the fountaine to the ocean—‘vires acquirit eundo.’ For thither repayred to her, for the love of the young Prince, the Lord Percy, the Lord Wake, and others, as well out of the North, as the Marches of Wales. But Edward, having left the Earle of Winchester, and the elder Lord Spenser, in the Castle of Bristol, for the keeping thereof, meditates flight with a few into the isle of Lundie, in the Severne sea, or into Ireland; and while he wandereth about, not finding where to rest safe, his royall credite, name, and power—like a cliffe which, falling from the top of some huge rocke, breakes into the more pieces the further it rolles—are daily more and more diminisht as they scatter, till now at last they are come to a very nothing.

“After a week, therefore, spent upon the sea, Sir Thomas Blount forsaking him, and comming to theQueenehe came on shore in Glamorganshire, where, with his few friends, he entrusted himself to God, and the faith of theWelsh, who indeed still loved him, lying hidden among them in theAbbey of Neath.

“The Kingnot appearing, proclamations were every day made in the Queene’s army, declaring that it was the common consent of the realme that he should returne and receive the government thereof, so as he would conform himself to his people. This—whether stratagem or truth—not prevailing, Henry, Earle of Lancaster, the late Earle’s brother, Sir William de la Zouch, and Rhese-ap-Howell, a Welshman—who all of them had lands in that quarter where the Kinge concealed himselfe—were sent with coyne and forces to discover and take him.

“What will not money, diligence, and faire words doe, with corrupt dispositions—everting of all bonds of either religious or civil duties? By such means, therefore, the desolate, sad, and unfortunateKingefell into his cousen of Lancaster’s hands, in the Abbey-house of Neath;” [or, according to others, in the Castle of Llantrissant, a place of great strength; but as the gates were thrown open by treachery, neither the strength of the Castle nor the courage of those around him could avail the royal victim,[400]doomed to expiate, it was supposed, the ruthless cruelty of his father in massacring the bards.

“Weave the warp, and weave the woof,The winding-sheet of Edward’s race;Give ample room and verge enough,The characters of Hell to trace.Mark the year, and mark the night,When Severn shall re-echo with affright,The shrieks of death, through Berkeley’s roof that ring—Shrieks of an agonizing King!”]

Richard de Greenvile,[401]the reputed founder of Neath Abbey, and lord of the adjoining Castle, is thus noticed in the ‘Baronage of England:’—“In the fourth of William Rufus, Jestin, the son of Gurgunt, being lord of Glamorgan, Rees-ap-Theodore, prince of South Wales, made war upon him; and that Jestin, discerning himself to be unable to make defence, sent one Enyon, his servant, to Robert Fitz-Hamon,[402]then a knight of the privy chamber to the King, for his aid, with large promises of reward for his help. And that hereupon Robert, having retained twelve knights, marched with what power they could all make intoWales; and so joining with Jestin, slew Rees, and Conan, his son.Furthermore, that after this victory, demanding his reward according to the agreement so made with Enyon, and Jestin refusing to perform his promise, the difference came to be tried by battle; and that Jestin being therein slain, this Robert Fitz-Hamon had full possession of all that territory.

“Whereupon, for reward to those twelve knights, with other his assistants, he gave unto them divers castles and manors; and, as second on the list, he gave to Richard de Greenvile the lordship ofNethe.”

Subjoined is a view of the Crypt of this once magnificentAbbey, which, though long exposed to the wasting hand of Time, and the depredations of enemies, is still a monument of early piety, upon which few pilgrims will look unmoved, and no archæologist can survey without admiration.

“For some brief passionAre centuries of high splendour laid in dust,And that eternal honour, which should liveSun-like above the rock of mortal fame,Changed to a mockery and a by-word.”

KIDWELLYis supposed to have been erected by Rhys, Prince of South Wales, at the close of the twelfth century; and even now, after the lapse of five hundred years, it presents, in strength and appearance, one of the most striking examples of feudal architecture in Wales, where the science of castle-building attained the highest perfection. The old town of Kidwelly, over which the Castle once threw its protecting arms, is now ruinous; but a new Kidwelly, reared in happier times, and thriving under the arts of peace, seems to cast a glance of mingled pity and reproach upon the enormous fortress, whose very existence in such a situation is a melancholy proof of barbarism and bondage—

“When ‘might was right,’ and spear and brandSubdued and meted out the land—Demesnes, which he who built the strongest,And only he, retained the longest.”

History.—Describing the situation of Kidwelly, the Chronicle says, “So great is the bay or creek that here getteth within the land, that this country seemeth, as it were, for very fear to have shrunke back, and withdrawn itself more inwardly. The territory around this bay was held for a time by Keiani the Scot’s sonnes, until they were driven out by Cuneda, the Cambro-Briton, and is now counted part of the inheritance of the Dutchy of Lancaster, by the heires of Maurice of London, or De Londres, who, making an outroad hither out of Glamorganshire, after a dangerous war, made himself master hereof, and

Kidwelly Castle.

fortified old Kidwelly with a wall and castle to it, which now for very age is growen to decay, and standeth, as it were, forlet and forlorne: for the inhabitants, having passed over the little river Vendraeth-Vehan, built a newKidwelly, enticed thither by the commodity of the harbour, which, notwithstanding being at this day choked with shelves and barres, is at this present of no great use. While Maurice de Londres,” continues the Chronicle, “invaded these parts, [Gwenliana,[403]] the wife of Prince Gruffin—a stout and resolute woman in the highest degree—ultimæ audaciæ mulier—in order to recover the losses and declining fortunes of her husband, came, with displaied banner, into the field, and assailed him, but the successe of her enterprise not answering to her courage, she, with her sonne Morgan, and other men of especial note, was slaine in battle.

“By Hawes, or Avis, the daughter and heire of Sir Thomas de Londres, this passing faire and large patrimony, together with the title of Lord Ogmoor and Kidwelly, came unto Patrick Chaworth, and by his son Patrick’s daughter, unto Henrie, Earle of Lancaster. Now the heires of the said Maurice of London, as we learn from an old inquisition, for this inheritance were bound to this service—namely, that if their sovereign lord the King, or his Chiefe Justice, came into the parts about Kidwelly with an armie, they should conduct the foresaid army, with their banners and their people, through the mids of Nethland, as far as to Loghar.”

The Castleis in a more perfect state than any other ruin in the Principality: “meately well kept up,” says old Leland, “and veri faire and double waullid;” having been repaired by Alice de Londres, wife of one of the Dukes of Lancaster, and lastly in the reign of Henry the Seventh. Its appearance is literally grand and imposing. The ruins comprise a quadrangular area, enclosed by strong walls, defended by massive circular towers at the angles, and also by bastions in the intervals—as shown in the accompanying illustrations. The principal entrance, which is at the west side, is under a magnificent gateway, flanked by two round towers, and is still in good preservation. Many of the state apartments are almost entire. Of these the groined ceilings, in some instances, with other portions of the edifice, display many interesting features of the early style of English architecture. The chapel is sufficiently indicated in the engraving by its lancet-pointed windows, and forms a noble and characteristic feature of this truly majestic edifice.

Kidwellyis strongly situated, having on two sides a precipitous descent to the river Gwendraeth, and few things are finer than the first view of its massive and turreted bulwarks ranging along the summit of the cliff. The principalentrance was on the west, by means of a gateway, flanked by round towers, one of the most perfect and beautiful in the kingdom. This, however, is now closed, and the visitor, after clambering up the steep old street on the other side of the bridge, is conducted to an entrance in the rear of the building, communicating with a “pleasaunce,” or terrace promenade, now overgrown with noble trees. On entering the interior, the extent and massiveness of the remains create a feeling of astonishment. There were three courts divided by walls and towers; and in the centre is a building defended by four other towers, the grouping of which surpasses that of any other interior in Wales, unless, perhaps, that of Pembroke.

“We then clambered on the ramparts, entered the chapel, adorned with delicate lancet-pointed windows, and looked down from a dizzy height upon the river Gwendraeth, which rolls its melancholy stream through the marshy valley below. Altogether we were quite unprepared for the extent and preservation of this magnificent fortress, and regretted much that previous arrangements had left us so little time for its exploration.”[404]

The view from the ramparts is extensive: the valley of the Gwendraeth—the old town and its spire—the distant marshes and the sea—all blend together, and form a grand but melancholy picture, which harmonises with the feeling inspired by the aspect of the whole place and neighbourhood—

“How grand, and beautiful, and vast,Fortress and hall of ages past!With battlement and turret crown’d,And iron ramparts girdled round;Whose shadow, stretching o’er the land,Whose bulwarks, desolately grand,Whose chambers, voiceless and forsaken,A tide of mingled thoughts awaken,And dreams of fancy that restoreThe Barons and the Bards of yore,When trumpet-peal, from turret wall,Proclaimed the knightly festival.”—MS.

The air of the place is considered salubrious and the town healthy; but the importance which it formerly derived from its situation on the banks of a fine navigable river, within half a mile of its influx into the great bay of Carmarthen, has ceased—a reverse occasioned by an accumulation of sand, which has formed a dangerous bar across the mouth of the river. Its commerce, once flourishing, has consequently declined; while the opening of collieries, and the establishment of copper-works at Llanelly—to which port that of Kidwelly is a creek—have transferred the trade to that place.

“The scale has shifted—freighted barks no moreVisit, with welcome sail, the lonely shore:Unprofitable weeds usurp the strand—The once wide port presents a mound of sand.But these stout towers, defying time and tide,Still o’er the scene in massive strength presideKidwelly’s walls, firm as the native rock,Have braved, for centuries, the tempest-shock.”

Many fruitless attempts have been made to improve the navigation of the river, by removing the obstructions alluded to. In 1766, some docks and a short canal were constructed here. The navigation was afterwards transferred to the “Kidwelly Canal Company,” by whom it was extended about two miles up the valley of the Gwendraeth; and a branch, three miles and a half in length, was constructed to communicate with Pembrey harbour. Here were formerly both iron and tin works, the former of which have been entirely abandoned, and the latter are continued only in a diminished scale.

Kidwelly received its first charter of incorporation from King Henry VI. James II., in the sixteenth year of his reign, granted to its inhabitants their present charter, by which the government is vested in a mayor, a recorder, two bailiffs, and a common council of twelve aldermen, and twelve principal burgesses, assisted by a town-clerk, chamberlain, two sergeants-at-mace, and other officers.

Ancient dwellings near Manorbeer Castle.—See Note, p. 327.

“Let them pass—I cried: the world and its mysterious doomIs not so much more glorious than it was,That I desire to worship those who drewNew figures on its false and fragile glass,As the old faced—phantoms ever newRise on the bubble, paint them as you may;Wehave but thrown—as some before us threw—Our shadows on it as it passed away.But mark how chained to the triumphalCrossWere the great figures of an elder day!”

This Castle—one of the oldest in Wales—crowns a bold eminence projecting into the bay of Carmarthen, and defends the entrance of the river Towy, which falls into the sea at this point. It is a military fortress of great strength and antiquity, but by whom founded—whether by Roman or Briton—or to what precise era it belongs, are questions which have never been satisfactorily answered. Yet the very obscurity which hangs upon it imparts to its dilapidated walls, mouldering turrets, and grass-covered courts, an interest which is seldom or never felt in the survey of those castellated ruins which make a prominent figure in the pages of history. All that has yet been advanced by archæologists regarding the founder of Llanstephan, is only based on plausible conjecture. It is not improbable, however, that the present castle occupies the position of a Roman fort; for it is not to be supposed that, during their occupation of the Silurian territory, a situation presenting so many natural advantages, and commanding the embouchure of the Towy, would be neglected by a people so prone to conquest, and so circumspect in all the means that could secure and fortify them in their new possessions. Nor were the Normans—who were equally observant and expert in the distribution of their military posts—likely to lose sight of the advantages which a castle on this promontory would afford in facilitating their operations, and widening their encroachments beyond the Welsh frontier; and in the citadel which now covers the steep, we have ample

Kidwelly Castle.Inner Courts and Chapel from the Battlements.

Kidwelly Castle.

Inner Courts and Chapel from the Battlements.

testimony, that whatever hands may have raised the first structure, that which now occupies our attention is of Norman architecture.

The historicaldetails of Llanstephan are meagre and unsatisfactory; we would desire to learn the circumstances of siege and storm and surrender, the acts of fortitude and valour which mutually distinguished the besieged and their assailants, their patient endurance of privations, their resolute and determined resistance, the nightly assault, the treachery of professing allies, the regular investment by open enemies, the daily skirmishes, the nightly advance, the scaling of the walls, the final struggle, the throwing open of gates, the dismantling of towers, with mingled traits of personal prowess, magnanimity, and fortitude. But of these, history observes a mysterious silence. We learn, however, that

Caddell, Meredydd, and Rhys, sons of Gryffyd-ap-Rhys[405]—the prince so often named in these pages—having in 1143 succeeded in their enterprise against Carmarthen Castle, were induced to make a similar attempt upon Llanstephan, and, directing their march to that point, invested the walls, and summoning the Norman garrison to surrender, were answered by a message of contempt and defiance. This, however, served merely to stimulate the Cambrian leaders into immediate action; for, after a spirited resistance, they carried the fortress by storm or stratagem, and planted their own countrymen within its walls. This daring exploit was instantly reported to the Norman legions beyond the frontier, who made all possible haste to vindicate the tarnished honour of the garrison; and mustering all their available strength, soon made their appearance under the walls of Llanstephan.

The consequence of this movement was a protracted siege, in the progress of which everything promised a successful issue to the Normans. At last, while the Cambrian garrison within did little more than regard their operations with passive indifference, the signal was given to scale the ramparts, and at the word every Norman flew to the assault. Meredydd, however, was well prepared to give his unbidden guests a Welsh welcome; and while the Normans, like swarming bees, were covering fosse and rock with their numbers, he ordered a wedge to be struck home, and no sooner was the hammer at work than an avalanche of rocks, suddenly let loose from the highest point of the ramparts, overwhelmed the invaders, and hurled the scaling party and their ladders into the ravine below. A shout of derision followed them from the garrison above; operations on both sides were suspended; and with their ranks thus suddenly thinned by a catastrophe as unseen as it was disastrous, the Normans sullenly withdrew. But it was only to return with increased strength and whettedvengeance. They had sworn to extirpate the garrison at their next visit, and the Norman leader was not a man to break his word whenever stimulated by a thirst of revenge or plunder.

We need not dwell upon the skill and vigour of the besiegers, nor the spirited resistance of the garrison. But, in the present instance, the siege was conducted in a more regular and systematic method than heretofore; they had recourse to all the appliances of military art. The warlike engines employed against stubborn fortresses were now called into perpetual action, and night and day thebuttingof the battering-rams continued to shake the ramparts, until here and there a stone dropping from the mason-work, the whole ramparts began to shake under the feet of the besieged. At length, a breach being effected, the Normans poured in their best troops, and for a time the conflict was maintained with desperate fury. Foot to foot the assailants met, fought, and fell where they stood. Too proud to ask quarter, the fiery Cambrian rushed upon his adversary with a blind impetuosity that often placed him at his mercy; while the Norman, adroit in the management of his weapon, and bent on revenging his countrymen, was only stimulated to indiscriminate slaughter; and long before sunrise the Norman banner waved on the Castle of Llanstephan.

InM.CC.XVIthe fortune of war was again invoked. The Norman sway, so intolerable to native independence, had extended its influence and territory; and with these had inspired into the heart of every reflecting Cambrian, a deep sense of the wrongs inflicted upon his country. With an irrepressible and Wallace-like determination to crush or expel the invader, he rushed to the conflict. This, so far as regards Llanstephan, was partly effected by Llewelyn-ap-Iorwerth, who, after a successful attack, entered the fortress, slew or captured the garrison, and then, to prevent its being again turned against the peace of the country, dismantled the walls, threw down the gates, filled up the ditches, and left its towers for a habitation to the owls.

The position of the Castle, however, was too advantageous to be neglected for more than a season: for, as war continued rampant along the marches, the demand for garrisons increased; and Llanstephan was again converted into a fortress, and crowded with troops. In this state it appears to have continued until the year 1254. But in those days of mutual hatred and jealousy—when neighbour plotted against neighbour, and friendships cemented at morning were often changed, by some sudden exasperation, into mortal enmities before night—the garrison of Llanstephan could never remain unconcerned spectators of passing events. Llewelyn-ap-Grufydd, whose name is so familiar in the Cambrian annals, finding himself in a position to resent, to the very death, some personal insult from the haughty castellan of Llanstephan, summoned his countrymen to arms. “This offensive castle,” said he, “must be demolished! Ye havetrue British hearts; and if your hands will only obey those hearts, my countrymen, before two days elapse ye shall drive your goats to pasture in the courtyard, of Llanstephan!”

This old Griffin kept his word—the raid was successful—his flag soon waved over the battlements of the castle; and there we leave him for the present to enjoy the fruits of his new seigneurie.

St. Anton’s Well, in the parish of Llanstephan, was long a place of popular resort for invalids. Impregnated by some mysterious qualities which escaped detection by theancientprocess of analysis, the water was lauded as a never-failing resource under those forms of corporeal malady which had baffled the skill of physicians, and conducted the sufferer to the very brink of despair. It may, therefore, be imagined, that the concourse of pilgrims was a source of no little emolument to the place, more especially to the “hydropathic” friar of the olden day, who presided at the well, and propitiated, for a consideration, the kind offices of St. Anthony. But all the medicinal virtues of this holy well are now left to the gossip of old tradition; and although the fountain bubbles up as fresh, and clear, and salubrious as ever, public faith in its qualities has been shaken; and no pilgrim, in these days of scientific analysis, ever stoops down to taste the water, and, in testimony of its virtue, leaves his crutch behind him.[406]

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