had crossed the ford during the day, but avoided it by taking a circuitous route. In this plight we jogged on upwards of eight miles, with the unwelcome gloom of the Black Mountains on our left, and a pleasant diversified country on our right, to the village of Pont-ar-dulas, but which we did not reach before evening. The comfortable inn at this place afforded us a change of apparel and good cheer, that soon dissipated the inconveniences of our journey. On the following morning we rose early, and then found the place to possess many traits of picturesque attraction, being seated near a rapid river, and agreeably interspersed with woods. Thence we had a pleasant ride to Swansea; where we rejoined a party of our friends at breakfast, after a fortnight's excursion. During our stay in this town, protracted to several days by its agrecable society, Mrs. Hatton, mistress of the bathing-house, and sister of the English Melpomene, exhibited her theatric powers on the humble boards of Swansea theatre. But, labouring under the misfortune of lameness, and the encumbrance of more human flesh than I ever before saw crowded in one female figure, she she was obliged to go through her task, the recitation of Alexander's Feast, sitting: notwithstanding which weighty drawback, the lady did not fail to exhibit a vivid tincture of the family genius. Here too we were gratified with the news of an event, before whose solid advantages the victories of a century sink, in a rational estimate, like glittering tinsel before massive ingots. I was awakened at an early hour by the loud huzzas of the towns-people, and the frequent discharge of cannon from vessels in the harbour. The ships displayed their gayest colours; and the people, in dancing through the streets, congratulated each other on the long wished-for blessing of PEACE! The chagrin of two or three provision-monopolizers, and a few others whose interest was in opposition to the public weal, with the old subterfuge that it was not the proper time for peace, covering a real sentiment of endless war, passed unnoticed, nor formed a perceptible speck on the brilliancy of the people's joy! CHAP. OUR tour now took an eastward direction. Crossing Swansea river by an exceeding good ferry, and passing a region of furnaces, we traversed a considerable hill to the neighbouring valley of NEATH; a spot that might be deemed pleasing, were it not overhung with the smoke of numerous manufactories, and its soil blackened with coal-works and rail-ways. Neath abbey is a short distance west *Rail-ways are so called, from being constructed of iron (in some places wooden) rails, placed in such a manner as to receive the wheels of a sort of low cart, used in the conveyance of metal and coals. These cars, as they are called, are of very ponderous structure; their wheels, grooved round, with a shoulder dipping on the inside, pass with great facility over the rails; which latter, projecting an inch or two above west of the town, and its remains are extensive. Besides the abbey church, the walls of the offices and other apartments are yet standing; but, undecorated with verdure, and partaking of the sable hue that impinges on every object around, it fails to create an idea of beauty or grandeur. As we were exploring the dark recesses of the ruin, a number of haggard forms on a sudden darted from various apertures, and eagerly pressed toward us. Their wan countenances, half hidden by black matted hair, bore the strongest expression of misery; which was further heightened by a scanty ragged apparel, that scarcely covered their meagre limbs: upon their whole appearance one might have asked with Banquo, "What are these, "So wither'd, and so wild in their attire, "That look not like th' inhabitants o' the earth, "And yet are on't?-You should be women; "And yet your beards forbid me to interpret "That you are so." the ground, are kept in their places by a sunken frame of wood. The advantages of these roads are very considerable for the purposes to which they are applied; insomuch that many persons have suggested their usefulness for public ways; but perhaps without considering the numerous practical objections that would encounter the project. The The poor creatures were the wives of miners, and women that worked in the manufactories, who burrowed and brought up their families in the cells of the ruin. Unceasing drudgery, however, was unable to obtain them the necessaries of life; much less a taste of those comforts, to which the exertion of useful labour might seem to have a just claim. An old woman, bent nearly double with years, "Of ashy semblance, meagre, pale, and bloodless," gave us her account of the ruin. She shewed us the nuns' dining-room, the roof of which is still entire, supported by Saxon, or rather early Norman pillars and arches. From the refectory we passed to what was once the dormitory, and were shewn a nauseous dungeon, in which, as the legend of the ruin relates, offending nuns were wont to be confined. This abbey was built by Richard de Granville and Constance his wife, in the reign of Henry the First, for Cistertian monks, and dedicated to the Holy Trinity: at the dissolution of monasteries its revenues were valued at 1501. per annum. The abbeyhouse, about a century and a half since, formed an admired seat of the Hobby's fa mily. L 2 Neath, |