LITTLE ENGLAND BEYOND WALES—MILFORD-HAVEN—WELCH BEAUTIES—HAVERFORDWEST FAIR—THE TOWN, CASTLE, AND PRIORY—PICTON CASTLE—HUBBERSTON—MILFORD.
In the reign of Henry the First, a colony of Flemings, driven from their country by an inundation, were permitted to settle in the western neighbourhood of Milford-haven. These were often attacked by the Welch, but unsuccessfully: they soon extended their territory over a great part of the county, and, in conjunction with the Normans, carried their arms as far as Llanstephan. Camden calls this district, “Little England beyond Wales;” and the difference of appearance, customs, and language, between the inhabitants of southern Pembrokeshire and their neighbours, is strikingly obvious at the present day. The tourist in Caermarthenshire will scarcely meet a peasant who speaks a word of English; but in an hour’s ride, towards Pembroke, he will find it universally spoken. I remarked this to mine host at Carew; who exultingly assured me, that Pembrokeshire was out of Wales; that he (a native of the place) was an Englishman; and that for his part he did not understand any thing of the Welch gibberish.
The men, tall and well made, evidently incline more to the English character than the Welch; yet they possess some personal traits distinct from either: I imagined, indeed, in many of the peasantry a resemblance to the present inhabitants of Flanders. Although this corner of the principality is the most remote from England, it is the most civilized. This may be accounted for, from the commercial habits brought over by the Flemings (which still continue) introducing the manners of other nations; an advantage denied to the generality of the Welch, whose ancient (perhaps wholesome) prejudices disinclined them to extensive commerce.
We took our final departure from Pembroke, on the road to Haverfordwest, not without often looking back on the princely relics of its castle, towering above the river: but, crossing a ridgy eminence, our attention was diverted by the appearance of Milford-haven.
This noble harbour, immortalized by the strains of our great dramatic poet, is of an oblong figure; about ten miles in length, and from one to two in width. It is justly considered as the best and safest in Great Britain, and inferior to none in Europe; abounding with the best anchorage, and having five bays, ten creeks, and thirteen roads. Two forts that were erected in the time of Elizabeth on the opposite points of the entrance, called Nangle and Dale blockhouses, are now neglected.
As a picturesque object, Milford-haven is chiefly interesting for its noble sheet of water: its peaceable shores, rising in gentle hills, may please from their flowing outline; but, uncloathed with wood, and unbroken into crags or precipices, their sameness fails to interest an eye habituated to bolder scenery. The mouth of the haven, turning suddenly southward, gives it from most points of view the appearance of a lake. It very strongly reminded me of several of the lakes in Cumberland; but, although its surface is greater; the lakes far transcend it in the accompanyments of rock and wood, and a sedgy margin that mixes its verdure with the water: whereas the haven is surrounded by a broad stripe of mud, except at high tide: this defect, however, is constituent to all estuaries and tide rivers. More richly decorative in their scenery are the three branches of Milford-haven, which diverge at the extremity of the great bason, and distribute fertility and beauty over the principal part of Pembrokeshire. [71] It was our intention to have crossed these branches at Lawrenny and Landshipping, and to have taken Picton castle and Slebatch in our way to Haverfordwest; but, not having a whole day before us, considering the time due to the several objects, and learning that the ferries were uncertain, we recollected our sufferings at Carew, and by taking the direct road to Haverford avoided the risk of being again benighted. [72]
We were detained at the ferry near an hour; for the embarkation and passage of three carriages and their horses from the opposite side occupied all the boats during that time. But, although restless enough ourselves, we were not the most anxious part of a company that was waiting for a passage: several young men and near twenty young women, all dressed in their holiday-clothes, were panting for the amusements of Haverfordwest fair: perhaps a description of these lasses may convey some idea of Pembrokean beauty.
Health, contentment, and cheerfulness, combined, formed their predominant expression: yet it might be truly said, in the words of Gray,
“O’er their warm cheeks and rising bosoms move,
The bloom of young Desire, and purple light of Love,”
A roundish oval circumscribed their faces; their eyes, not over large, of a dark blue, unstrained by the wakeful vigils of fashionable revelry, displayed all the native brilliancy of those interesting organs; their noses, though of the snub kind, were well formed; and pretty pouting lips were ever ready to distend into a smile, on which occasion rows of ivory appeared, such as could hardly be matched out of Pembrokeshire. [73] The tendency to embonpoint, so characteristic of the Welch woman, was by no means displeasing in these young and elastic subjects; whatever was lost in elegance, was compensated in another point of view; their necks, of the most luxuriant prominence,
“With youth wild throbbing”—
were modestly handkerchiefed to their throats; yet did the thin gauze covering, closely embracing the proud distensions of nature, only the more bewitchingly manifest the beauties which it was appointed to conceal. Their other proportions were in unison, and, as a jockey, who was also going to the fair, coarsely, but clearly, observed, “full of hard meat.” In truth, among them, it were no difficult matter to find what Homer would, call—?a?e??? pa?a???t??. The dress of the Welch women, however, is not calculated to set off their persons: a close mob cap has little grace, especially when surmounted with a round felt hat; and their very long waists, and brown or plaid cloth jackets and petticoats, but render the rotundity of their foundations more unpicturesque. It cannot at present be said, that:
—“their tender limbs
Float in the loose simplicity of dress.”
yet, as the smart girls begin to imitate our English modes, in the course of a few years every contour of nature may be as free public inspection in Wales, as it is at present in the polite circles of the metropolis.
Crossing the ferry, we left this interesting group; and, in proceeding up a high bank of the haven, enjoyed a fine view of its expansive surface, and grand undulating shores. About half-way to Haverfordwest a new scene burst upon us, consisting of a wide luxuriant valley, watered by a large arm of Milford-haven. We were denied a distinct view of this scene by a hazy atmosphere; but are informed that it is uncommonly rich and extensive in clear weather. On approaching the town of Haverfordwest up a laborious ascent, we passed through the fair, which is held just without the town. Black cattle and horses were the chief objects of the meeting, which had scarcely any diversions; no shews: nor any jugglers, except a recruiting party, and two or three cattle jobbers, or middle men, who agreed upon the price of the market, while the actual buyers and sellers stood gaping at each other, in amazement how such prices could be obtained! Perhaps they had to learn, that for an indispensable commodity, exclusively held by a set of men whose interests are common, any price may be obtained! But we had some rural sports: a party of rustics were dancing on the green, to the notes of a miserable scraper; yet of him it could not be said,
“Old Orpheus play’d so well he mov’d old Nick;
But thou mov’st nothing but thy fiddle-stick,”
for the reeking brows of his company very plainly evinced the laborious agitation that he had excited. Close by, a game at see-saw seemed to create much diversion among the bye-standers. We joined in the throng, and were entertained with a good-natured dispute between a comely lad and as blythe a lass as any the fair could boast: they were in the midst of their acquaintance; and we learned from one of them, that on the following Sunday they were to be married: he wished her to ride with him at see-saw, and she persisted in refusing; he hauled her to no purpose, until a sharp-looking little girl said, that if she were in his place she would put off the wedding for a fortnight, to be revenged; a loud laugh succeeded this, at the expence of the bride-elect; but the allusion to matrimony forced no downcast confusion on the lass; perhaps her rosy dimples were painted with a deeper hue; yet the suffusion arose rather from a glowing idea, than a sensation of unnecessary shame: wherefore should she be ashamed of the approaching fulfilment of her long-cherished wishes?—I do not know whether she feared that her lover might adopt the advice of her mischievous friend, or whether it was the natural compliance of the sex disqualifying them for stout denial, that acted upon her; but she at length yielded. Alas, poor damsel! she was not yet an adept at see-saw; and a verification of Buxoma’s mischance was witnessed by the whole Company:
“Cuddy.—Across the fallen oak the plant I laid,
And myself pois’d against the tott’ring maid.
High leap’d the plank, adown Buxoma fell:
I spy’d—but faithful sweethearts never tell.”
The town of Haverfordwest irregularly built on the steep bank of the river Hia, may now be considered as the capital of Pembrokeshire; as well on account of its superior extent and opulence, as from its having lately become the place of the grand session. But the streets are narrow and dirty, and so steep as to be seriously dangerous. A few good houses, among which is a residence of the dowager lady Kensington, start up here and there; but in such situations, as to convey no look of importance to the place. However commerce may have diffused wealth through this town, and proclaimed it the successful rival of Pembroke; yet, compared with the clean, placid, and respectable mien of the latter, it ensures no pre-eminence of esteem from the tourist: it may, indeed, present to him the idea of a purse-proud shop-keeper, strutting before a decayed gentleman.The castle, seated on a cliff adjoining the town, is said to have been built by Gilbert Earl of Clare, in the reign of King Stephen, and was occupied by the Flemings. Though still possessing considerable portions of its former importance, yet, engrafted with modern additions to fit it for the county jail, it has little picturesque attraction. A wall connected with the castle, which once surrounded the town, is still in part standing: a good quay, a custom house, a free school, a charity school, and an alms house, are among the public concerns of this town. Of three churches that it boasts, that of St. Mary is a neat building; and its spire, covered with shingles and warped from the perpendicular, has a curious effect. A short distance southward of the town, near the river, are some remains of a priory of Black cantons, founded by John de Haverford.
An excursion of three or four miles led us to Picton castle, the noble seat of lord Milford, whose extensive domains cover a great part of the surrounding country. This may be considered as one of the most antique residences in the kingdom, having been built by William de Picton, a Norman knight, in the reign of William Rufus. Upon his line’s becoming extinct, it descended to the Wogans, then to the Dones, and afterwards to the Philipses of Kylsant; and during the Civil Wars, Sir Richard Philips made a long and vigorous defence in it for King Charles. It is one of the very few castles that escaped the dilapidations of Cromwell, and is also remarkable for having been always inhabited; yet the alterations and additions of successive occupiers have not deprived it of its embattled figure. The extensive and delightful plantations of this seat unite with those of Slebatch, a handsome house built by the late Mr. Barlow, and now in the possession of Mr. Philips.
In another excursion from Haverfordwest, passing Johnston, an old seat of Lord Kensington’s, to the obliging communications of which nobleman I feel myself greatly indebted, we reached Hubberston Haikin, a fishing town in Milford-haven, whence the Waterford packets depart from Britain. This is a poor place, and ill-supplied with accommodation for travellers; but at the still smaller town of Milford, on the opposite side of the river, we were informed, a good inn is established. Near Hubberston are the small remains of a priory, consisting chiefly of the gate-house; but of what foundation or order no legend informs us.
