1. JOURNAL of A TEN DAYS' TOUR FROM ULEY IN GLOUCESTERSHIRE, BY WAY of ROSS; Down the RIVER
WYE to CHEPSTOW; ABERGAVENNY, BRECON, HEREFORD, MALVERN. &c. &c. -- Augst 1807
[A transcription of Bloomfield's prose journal of his Wye tour from the text as it appears,
with his sketches and pasted-in maps and notes, in British Library Additional Manuscript 28267.
The folio numbers on which the text and the sketches appear are indicated here within square
brackets. Bloomfield's spelling and punctuation are preserved. His deletions are represented by
words struckthrough; insertions above the line appear <thus>.]
[f. 1]
JOURNAL
of A
TEN DAYS' TOUR
FROM ULEY IN GLOUCESTERSHIRE, BY WAY
of ROSS; Down the RIVER WYE to CHEPSTOW;
ABERGAVENNY, BRECON, HEREFORD, MALVERN.
&c. &c. --
Augst 1807
[f. 2]
[f. 3]
Note: In my 'Shooters Hill'
1 I have said,
'Of Cambrian Mountains still I dream'
&c. &c. but,
'Tis not for me to trace around
The wonders of my native land'
I find that it was through reading that poem that the tour was resolv'd
on, at least that I became one of the party. My friends guess'd that I
should like it, and they never form'd a better guess in their lives.
Stouts Hill. Uley.
Aug. 1807
Uley is situated in rather a singular
valley, about seven miles from the Severn. It appears to
be surrounded by abrupt and woody hills, except on the north, where a bold promontory, with an
old camp on its brow, calld the 'Berry,'2 lifts its
bald head; and whose sides, yielding plenty of stone for building, are extremly steep. Yet they
are not hills, but merely the terminations of the upland country of Gloucestershire termed the
'Cotswold Levels' and here they break suddenly into the vale of the Severn:3 and the valley of Uley is sunk so
as to be approached by a stranger without the smallest suspicion of there being a valley before
him. Cotswold is an immense Gloucester cheese, and Uley
valey is a half-pound notch cut in his side.
The town of Dursley lies in the
opening of the same valley, towards the Severn, and immediately under Stinchcomb Hill, one of the most remarkable of
these bluff points, as standing majestically forward into the vale of Severn, and consequently commanding a very extensive view in
all directions, particularly down the stream, over Kingwood,
[f. 4]
[f. 5] Bristol, the mouth of the Wye, the Monmouthshire, and
Black Mountains; the Forest of Dean; May Hill; Malvern Hills, in Worcestershire; and the city of Gloster,
&c. — — — Both Dursley and Uley are employ'd in the manufacture of Broad-cloth, and was I
to abuse their Steam Engines, that fill so delightful a valey with smoke, they would probably
begin reminding me of my coat, and not unlikely of the time when I was hampered to get one! I
mean to let them alone!
The village of Owlpen stands under the
hanging woods at the top of Uley Vale. It is very small, and near its curious and obscure
church runs the little rill4, with several natural cascades, (the
first I had ever seen), which, in its further progress, becomes of such importance to the
clothiers. The Curate of Uley preaches here once a
fortnight, and he lately ran the hazard of his life by the falling of the sounding-board, which
struck him a violent blow on the head.— The country immediately round this valley on the high
ground, is every where intersected by stone walls; for stone, a brick thickness, more or less,
is the invariable consequence of digging ten inches into the ground; they are merely piled,
without morter, easily made, and as easily mended. A strange desolate appearance! In the valley
there is no such thing. The verdure is of the most vivid green, and the uneven boundary of
woods on the allmost perpendicular sides of the high grounds, form the finest amphitheatre I
have ever seen. But hold! I am going down the Wye!
[f. 6]
Berkley Castle, <distant 5
miles,> lies in sight from the heights; but I could <can>not reach it at present in any of my expiditions, but have frequently
thought of Gray, and the
'Shrieks of an agonizing King.'
5
From Dursley6 to the Severn side at Framelode, the
lowlands fall with a slow, gradual descent; The passage-house is finely situated, and the boats
are fitted up for the conveying horses and carriages across the stream. The water of the Severn is here but narrow, but owing to the occasional tides
of uncommon height, the sands are extensive; the current is rapid. Barrow Hill is a charming
spot, rising in the neck of a horseshoe form'd by the Severn, and gives <giving> a great
command of the country. Here we found plentifully the petrified shell of the Nautilus; and
pebbles, which in the neighbourhood of Uley are not seen,
nor the least appearance of chalk, or flint. Horses, I observe, appear to be struck with a kind
of tremulous submission on finding themselves floating; one Barge carried the seven. But to
float each sociable, two barges were lash'd side by side, and the carriage placed across upon
planks. One Boat of course carried all the party, and we were soon all on terrey-firma again,
and climbing the high-ground, leaving May Hill on our right. Passd Flaxley Abbey, the seat of Sir Thos Crawley. The woods on
this estate are chiefly Oak, of good growth, and covering the side hills in a manner truly
sublime.
The road leads on by Gun's Mills, and
to Mitcheldean, the oldest town situated in a most beautiful country, and whose church has a
spire of uncommon height, and so slender as to make one tremble for the
[f. 7]
[f. 8]
[f. 9]
builder. Yet on entering the place it keeps no promises made at a distance, but is the Oldest
Town (in appearance) that can be found
<imagined>, singularly unpleasing to the eye. Here I observed a stone cross, almost
perfect, having an upright stone on which the cro
Image was formerly placed. ——
During the ride from hence to Ross,
had two or three peeps at the Malvern Hills, in
Worcestershire, and the 'Skirit' and Sugarloaf in Monmouthshire. — 'Bailey's Side' is a fine
bold eminence on the left, cloathd with wood, with a range, or strata of Rock breaking through
it, and forming a curious contrast with the green above and below. Penyard Hill, in the
neighbourhood of Ross, is nearly of the same
description, but is on every side covered by steep woods, so that they assert that no sparrows
were ever known on the farm on its brow; This I think possible, as the sparrow is so entirely
domestic, and avoids woods in general; and in this case his flight would be unusually long, and
almost perpendicular.
(Arrived at Ross at 7. evening)
Ross is not a town to my fancy, in appearance
perhaps it is the prevalence of Rock, and of Rock-stone in their buildings that gives it a kind
of dreary look to one unused to such buildings. The church, with its taper spire, stands on
elevated ground, and from <it> is a view of the River Wye winding eel-fashion, below.
Many of the elms planted by 'Kyrle,' Pope's 'Man of Ross,'7 are growing in
the church yard and neighbourhood. The ruins of Wilton
Castle are seen across the stream in the oposite meadows, and a man in the churchyard
very seriously informed us, that 'the said castle was knock'd down by cannon, in a
great rebellion in the time of the Romans!'
During my short stay at Ross, I called
[f. 10]
[f. 11]
[f. 12]
on an old acquaintance and fellow-tradesman, whom I had not seen for eleven years. He keeps a
shoemaker's shop, oposite the Swan Inn, where we lodg'd.
(Left Ross at 8. morning, 18th)
At eight in the morning assembled to the number of ten, on board a pleasure Boat,8
store'd with provisions, and Bottles, &c. &c. The sociables having been order'd forward
to meet us at Monmouth and Chepstow.9 But how shall I attempt to describe the natural beauties of this
charming River, or the objects seen during the passage? I must not attempt it! a journal is not
a vehicle of sufficient importance. My heart is brimfull of indescribable pleasure when I think
on this day! Beauty in all its variety is perhaps its leading feature, But sublimity is
paramount to all considerations at the passage under Coldwell Rocks, and round to New Weir, and Great Doward, and thence on to Monmouth. Every body knows that the Wye is exceedingly
deep in places, and falls beautifully in others over ledges of Rocks, so as to form, not
cascades, but rapids, where the water hurries along with a visible descent. It is
winding in its course to a great degree, inconceivably pelucid, and in general, the hills rise
majestically steep from its shores.
We dined on board the Boat, on the right bank of the stream, near the spring
called 'Cold well' and here is a new-erected
Monument in memory of a youth drowned here in sight of his parents! the inscription is long,
and excellent, but I neglected to copy it10 Permission for its
erection was granted by Mr. Vaughan of Monmouth, the owner of the land; and though, for
[f. 13]
[f. 14]
[f. 15]
[f. 15v]
[f. 16]
[f. 17]
[f. 18]
[f. 19v]
[f. 20]
several reasons, I could individually wish the monument not there, I think it
does honour to him to grant it, and though, as 'the Lord of Courtfield,' I have condemnd his taste, I know nothing
disrespectful of his heart. — Coldwell Rocks, on
the Gloster side of the stream, are particularly grand and impressive, and the circumstance of
having one of them baptized by my name, by the company, I have noticed elsewhere.11
At the neck of a long horseshoe form'd by this river, the rocky eminence
called 'Symmons' Yat' obtrudes itself to a vast
height between the two points of the approach of the river. Instead of going round with the
boat, it is usual for the party to ascend the rocks from A to B where the ridge terminates in a
high bank of perpendicular Rock not more than twenty yards wide, and to join the boat again at
new Wier. An old woman was our guide, who led us over
this isthmus untill our bones ached.—Three of us outstript our companions, and finding they did
not overtake us, I again left my two companions, and climbd a pathless way, with intent to
reach the summit which I had missd. On nearly approaching the absolute perpendicular part of
the cliff, I heard voices at the top, and hallow'd and soon found <that> the hindmost
part of the company, had climbed the place before me. The old woman descended to become my
pilot, and the view paid amply for the labour. On the down-stream side of this bank of rock
lies the place called the 'New Wier,' or a kind of
artificial means of keeping up the river, and accommodated by a lock. here we embarkd again,
and lookd back on the scene with encreased interest, for here, projecting from the usual run of
this rocky hill, stands allmost detachd, an upright tower of stone very aptly term'd the
Cathedral, or the 'Minster Rock,' (I forget which) it is square and grotesque, and vast in its
proportions. —— It was one of those charming days that gratify us with their serenity and
[ff. 21v-22]
[f. 23]
[f. 24]
peace. The clarionet sounded softly; yet the echo was perhaps the more enchanting. To
describe all the beauties of the passage was not my intention was I ever so capable. There was
one circumstance however that was to me curious. I had heard when at Ross, that the fishermen on this River, still used the
identical kind of boat which Caesar has described in his commentaries12 as being used in his
time by the natives of Britain, and I hoped for an opportunity of being convinced of its truth.
When drawing near to Monmouth, after passing Great Doward, and drinking at Martin's well, we came
among some fishermen who were disturbing the water with long poles to dislodge the salmon. To
accomplish this they occasionally used an infant kind of boat, which they carry with them in
their large one. It holds but one person; is, as far as I can guess not more than 4 foot in
length, goes with the broadest end foremost, is worked by a paddle, has no keel or rudder, and
is formd of wickers only, and cover'd by an oil-skin outside to repel the water. The man
paddles himself on shore, jumps out, and takes his boat at his back with great ease. It had a
strange and even laughable appearance; It was impossible to keep the mind at home; it would
compare infancy and maturity, a 'Corricle' or 'Corracal' with the 'Victory,'13 and a Wye fisherman to Nelson.14
After an uninterrupted day of rational enjoyment we reachd Monmouth, at half-past seven in the evening; eleven hours and a half on the water.
(Monmouth at ½ past seven)
Monmouth [f. 26] (as the birthplace of Henry the 5th) may be considerd as a
high curiosity to the Antiquarian; but as we were obliged, on account of meeting the tide in
our way to Chepstow, to start at 6 the following
morning, no great attention could be paid to the town. The place of his birth, the castle, is
nearly all demolish'd (Or else in the dark we
<you> could not find it says the antiquarian;—) They have a Noble Statue of him over the
Market House.
Left Monmouth at 6 in the morning, Wedy 19)
The sun strove to overlook the steeps of wood that enclosd us in, skirting our
misty, and delightfully indistinct passage down the River. The day rose, the mists dispersed,
and we met the tide just before we reachd the Village of Landauga, where the cottages rise one over the other in a manner particularly pleasing
against the morning sun. The reach of the river that commands the village of Landauga, exemplified in a striking manner that peculiar
appearance which we had notic'd often on the water this morning, and the preceding day. Viz.
where the water was bounded by high ground, and at the same time seemingly
terminated by as high, or higher; it seemd
<appeared> to decline from the eye, and to loose its natural horizontal level by running
extreemly downhill into the opposing emminence. We know that a River has in
reality its natural declension, but this is a very strong and decided optical
deception; and it pleased me not a little.
Through the long reach below Ethels wier,
[f. 25]
[f. 26]
[f. 27v]
[f. 28]
the water became turbid and slugish, until the tide turnd, and then it ran furiously down,
and soon brought us in sight of the Ruins of Tintern
Abby. A place so often described by pen and by pencil,15
that I will not attempt it; only remarking that it must have been a place of extreem beauty,
and is now a place that strikes the eye, and fixes on the soul something like the shackles of
superstition; yet I would hope that reverence for an old place of devotion is something
deserving a better name. The door was open'd suddenly, and the effect instantaneously
overpowerd us all in different ways! It is grandeur in a place where it would be least
expected; a memorial of wealth and population now unseen in its neighbourhood. The burial place
of Strong-bow, the conqueror of Ireland, &c. Most
of the party sat down and took sketches of the interior; but I found it above my reach, and so
gave vent to my feelings by singing, for their amusement and my own, the 104th Psalm.16 And though no 'fretted vault'17 remains to
harmonize the sound, it soothd me into those
<that> state of mind which is most to be desired. We tarried here until the last moment <minute> of our allowance of time; the
tide was ebbing, and if suffer'd to ebb too far, some of the rapids further down would not have
boasted sufficient depth to have floated us to Chepstow. We took a hearty, but hasty breakfast, and I rather think the Welsh girl who
waited upon us was not sorry
[f. 29v]
[f. 30]
to get rid of her company. We had been more than three hours on the water; and we shall
remember the Tintern Breakfast with pleasure if
any part of our company go there, or meet each other again. —Though in this latter part of our
voyage the water was not so lovely an object in itself, yet the grandeur of the scenery
increased upon us every moment. The Rocks calld 'Winlass leap,' and 'lovers leap,' and the more exalted eminence of Wind Cliff, in itself worth going an hundred miles to
see. These, with the detached Rocks like buttrasses, called the 'twelve apostles', and an infinity of minor beauties
made themselves admired and respected on either side, untill we reachd Chepstow Castle and Bridge; where we quitted the Wye with
<a> regret, that those will best appreciate; who have witnessed its power to enchant, and
<seen> the objects in its course.
(arrived at Chepstow about one)
The Castle of Chepstow stands on the Bank of the Wye
immediately on the brink of a perpendicular rock of vast height. It appears to have been a place <fortress> of uncommon strength. Here
Martin (the Regicide) as he is calld, was long confined by Charles ye Second, and one of the
towers bears his name.18 Here each of the party found
abundance of exercise for the mind and for the pencil, but having passed 'Wind cliff' on our way down the river, we now visited it
by
[f. 31]
[f. 32]
[f. 32v]
[f. 33]
land, through the grounds of — Wells,19 Esq. of Persfield, pursuing a wooded
walk for about two miles, immediately on the edge of the rocks that overhang the Wye, at nearly
one end of this natural terrace, is the precipice called 'Lovers Leap', down which the eye descends with a fearful complacency, as a thick wood
covers the bottom ground. they told us that its height was about sixty yards, I should guess it
more. An iron railing protects the walk at top, and the descent is as steep as a wall. 'Wind Cliff', as seen by the map, is somthing further up
the stream, and is magnificently grand. The fantastic turns of the Wye, with its amphitheatre
of woods, seemed diminishd; but, if possible, increasd in beauty. The Severn's mouth; the Holmes, in its channel; the shipping at
King-road, and all the country from below Bristol
upwards untill Gloucester was lost in mist, is compleatly under the eye. It is here calld the
second view in england, and by Lord North20 was preferd to 'Mount Edgecomb.'
The accompanying view of 'Wind
Cliff' is taken from a part of Chepstow Castle,
and it will give an additional idea of its magnitude if you observe that you do not see the
river at its foot, but look over very high ground, round which the water comes from the right
towards the centre of the drawing. If you look on the map from Chepstow Castle to Wind Cliff, the whole will be understood.21 This drawing is done
[f. 34v]
[f. 35]
by R. B. Cooper, Esq. a principal in our party,
who uses his pencil with great freedom and expidition. I prize it on his, and every account.
——— We spent a delightful and social evening at the Beaufort Arms at Chepstow, and retired to rest, but not till we had walked
to the Castle by Moonlight, where we found an owl hooting lustily from the Battlements of Martin's Tower. We all stood to listen! and to admire!
and certainly no imagination can form an object and a scene half so impressive.
(Thursday 20th, at Chepstow)
The whole of this morning was spent in a thorough examination of the Ruin'd
Castle, but the time was too short; Many good drawings were made, and I attempted one amongst
the rest; The joists of the floors in Martin's
Tower are still existing and are of solid Oak, about a foot square. It appears
unaccountable to me how, even by the lapse of ages, nutriment enough can be found for shrubs of
so large a growth as are flourishing between the outer and inner ramparts of these towers, and
on the top of the wall of course. This gangway, once the place of the defenders of the fortress
and its centinels, is now an absolute wild: a mixture of Brambles, Hazel, Ash, Beech, and fruit
trees, from twenty to thirty feet high at least. The whole area of the Chappel which I was much
taken with, (though the man in attendance called it the banqueting-room) is coverd with
thriving underwood. The look out from its large windows must have been allmost dreadful, as
that wall stands on, and is, in truth the continuation of a perpendicular cliff, as <much> high<er> as than the building
itself.
[f. 36]
[f. 37v]
[f. 38v]
[f. 39]
The bridge at Chepstow is very narrow, (belonging to
the two counties) and the flooring is composed of oak planks only on which both hoofs and
wheels batter along in a singular manner. The planks are not fastened otherwise than at each
end by an upright peg, on which, in case of high tides, they have room to lift up ten or twelve
inches without loosing their places.
(Thursday, left Chepstow at twelve,
for Ragland and Abergany)
About noon left Chepstow, and the Wye and proceeded
on to Ragland, where there is another immense
castle, in some respects in better preservation than that we had left; but it appears <has not> so commanding a situation, and
appears more like a Barronial residence than an impregnable fortress. Here is the largest
growth of Ivy I have ever seen. The whole compass of the Walls are nearly compleat. But I
cannot possibly enter into particulars in a flying journal like this. We spent two hours
amongst the ruins; and in a kind of cellaring, the archd way leading to which has partly fallen
in, a country woman who offerd her services and information, informd us that, when a light is
carried in, it is soon extinguish'd, and that they say it is because of damps; but for her part
she was inclined to believe with many of her neighbours, that the devil was there. In this
building a gigantic stem of Ivy has pushed awry the fine fluted work of the kitchen window, and
seems to set iron and stone at defiance. The largest elm I have ever seen growing, is found in
the yard or grounds of the castle. ——
We drove on for Abergavenny, where
we arrived about 9 at night, having the 'Sugarloaf'
Mountain,' 'The Skirrid-Vawr,' and 'Blorench'
[f. 40v]
[f. 41]
catching the rays of the setting sun, as we came towards them. It was a noble sight!
(Abergavenny, <arrived at> 9
at night)
(Friday, 21st)
I am now writing in my bedroom at Abergany before
breakfast, with the sugarloaf Mountain in view of my
window, and before night we shall be on his brow. ———
I have now discover'd that the hill I saw from my window is not the Sugar loaf, but one of much inferior size. With ten in
company, and two <three> servants, it
requir'd some little order and contrivance to get us all up so rugged a way, and to such a
distance. We found that as sociables and common carriages could not pass the narrow, stony, and
precipitate lanes that lead up to the high ground, the best way would be to hire a carriage on
purpose, that would carry half our party. We learn'd that a man in the neighbourhood was in the
habbit of carrying strangers to the top of the Sugar
loaf, and the hills in the neighbourhood
<the Skirid, and Blorench, &c.> and that his conveyance was a common open cart, fitted up with
occasional seats for the purpose, and drawn by three little scrambling poneys. The driver and
owner is a red-fac'd little fellow named powel, who lives on his own small property, and is
perhaps, one of those we might call yeomen, or what in the north are termd, statesmen. In this
cart were stowed six of us, the rest rode single horses, chiefly fitted with side saddles for
the accommodation of the ladies, who occasionally
[f. 42v]
[f. 43]
relieved each other. The cart was abundantly stored with provisions, wine, Bottled ale, and
fruit, and every thing that could render the expidition agreeable and joyous. In this style,
the whole cavalcade left the Angel Inn at Abergany,
and excited a great deal of mirth. The roads up the mountain are such as nothing could have
passed but a cart. Brambles, honeysuckles, and hazelnuts, rap'd us on the head as we jolted up
the courses of the winter's torrents, for every lane is a water-course. Blorench seem'd to rise in greater sublimity as we
ascended the lower hills, or base of the Sugar loaf.
'Skirid Vawr' was on our right, but the day was hazy,
and the prospect not so extensive as it sometimes is. We reach'd the top of the woody part of
this high ground, and then had a fairer view of the peak, or summit of the Sugar Loaf 'Pen y Vale,' which I understand to mean the 'head of the
vale' and which sombody has since baptized by the more melting name of the 'Sugar-loaf.' I here took to my feet and steerd directly
for the summit, while most of the party went slowly round with the cart: But young purnell
Cooper rode his father's horse, amidst the rocks
and fragments allmost to the summit, where the poor animal trembled and neigh'd for his
companions. I gained the brow by regular and temperate exertion, for I had learned a lesson
from Symmons' Yat, gathering whimburys or winberrys
in my way and resting on the grotesque and immense fragments of Rocks, which appear to have
rolled down from the top; which is compos'd of allmost entire rock, and is not a sharp, but a
long narrow ridge, of about one hundred yards wide.22 It was not possible to drive the cart to
the
[f. 44v]
[f. 45]
top, so while all the party climb'd to the eminence, the driver took a circuit, and the
servants relieved each other in the necessary duty of holding the horses, and enjoy'd the scene
by turns. —— We all sat on the soft green, or rather brown heath or Ling; and from a spring
just below the rocky summit had some excellent water. From this sublime eminence the eye ranges
over others still higher, and the <blue mists hanging over the horizon, gave to the> long
line of intersecting mountains the appearance of a sea of hills. We had left beauty behind,
here was nothing but sublimity! and I think that mirth would be the last feeling likely to be
excited in such a situation. The air was remarkably fresh and invigorating; some few drops of
rain fell, which were most likely not known in the country below. We left the summit with
regret. At a considerable way from the more rocky part of the hill, in our descent, a cloth was
spread on the moss beside a rivulet, the horses tied to a thorn, and the cold collation <repast> enjoy'd with a mutual
thankfulness, that is seldom found in a hall amidst the clattering of knives and plates. Again
<we mounted> the Welsh sociable, and descended by another road, though as to declivity
not a whit better than the other. We at length reachd the turnpike road to Abergany, and returnd to the Inn after an excursion
that having been long promised and expected, could hardly have been despensed with, and which
from the universal gratification it gave, appears now it is over, to have been a principal
ingredient in dish of our pleasures.
(At Abergavenny, Saturday 22d)
[f. 46]
[f. 47v]
[f. 48]
(Abergany. 22)
This morning we strolled round the remains of Abergany Castle, It is very much gone to decay, but
from the eminence where once stood the keep, the hill called 'Blorench' on the other side the river Usk, and the 'Pen vale
Hills,' which we had ascended the preceding day, presented themselves in a new and
magnificent point of view. The morning was inclined to be stormy, and the point of the Sugar-loaf, and great part of his sides could not be
seen. The clouds hung round him, and rolld in dark volumes about his stony girdle. We waited
untill the sun acquired more power, and saw his head emerge with all the majesty of a
monarch.
(left Abergany at eleven)
This day's journey was to take us to Brecon, by way of
Crickhowel; At the latter place refreshd by the
way. here likewise are <seen> some remains of a castle, and likewise the ruins of an old mansion, once belonging to the Earles Earls of Pembroke. The people partake strongly
of the welsh character, and many of them cannot speak english.— Three miles further on, turnd
out of the high road to see the remains of Tre-tower
Castle, which stands rather singularly in a deep valley. Here an upright woman, a
hundred years old, askd charity, and said her name was 'Jane Edwards.'23 An old shoe-maker answered in Welsh a great many inquiries, through an
interpreter, his son, who could speak English, but roughly. From hence to
[f. 49]
[f. 50]
Brecon was a most enchanting ride. Crickhowel mountain, and several others were coverd
with clouds that travel'd along on their summits, and these clouds illuminated by the declining
sun! and nearer to Brecon, the grotesque and abrupt
cluster of points, called the 'Vann' were still more
enveloped and in clouds of the most terrific and dark hue. Reach'd the Golden Lion at Brecon, at 9.—
(Brecon at Nine. 22d)
Mr. Morgan, the Recorder of Brecon,
being related to father's of our party, we sup'd
there, and next day
(Sunday 23)
Attended service at church, and heard some excellent voices in the organ lofft, full of
simple pathos and feeling. The service is performed in Welsh at three in the afternoon for the
accommodation of those who do not speak english. And another kind of accomodation
is afforded the young men of the country, by the recruiting Sergeants; they expose their bills
of invitation, with their offer of eleven guineas Bounty, in english and in welsh, side by
side! Who would loose a soldier by neglecting to let him know that you want him.? Between the
church and Dinner hour Mr Floyd Baker and
self on horseback, visited an old British intrenchment, so deemd (I believe) by
the late Mr. King,24 the antiquarian, it consists
of a triple bank round the brow of a hill—And not more than three miles from Brecon, and for
the on the same
[f. 51]
side of the town, at a Farm now termed 'the Gaer'25 are the remains of a Roman
Wall, <still> so perfect as not to have wholly lost the outer, or facing stones. This
appears to have been a Roman station, of some importance.26 Mr. Price, a very civil and intelligent farmer on the spot, gave us every
information in his power, and seem'd to enjoy it. A paved Roman road crosses his orchard, only
cover'd by grass. A small lamp, found on the premises, is in possession of Mrs. Price. And
several very perfect Roman Bricks, are turn'd up by the plough, all stamp'd while the clay was
wet, as the work of the second Legion of Augustus, as I have endeavour'd to show in the scetch.
In the wild, bushy lane, leading down to 'the Gaer' stands a stone (perhaps 5 foot high, and 3 wide, by 6in thick,) calld 'Marn
Morinion' or 'the Maiden's Stone.' It has had 3 lines of inscription, now so effaced, that Mr B. could only make out a few words, but we
learn'd that the whole is decipher'd, and is in the possession of a gentleman at Brecon. In
front are two figures, once rais'd from the surface, but now batter'd away nearly to a flat.
That on the right, (looking at the drawing) appears to have been a Roman soldier with the dress
like a Highland philibeg, or petticoat. the other figure I think was a female, but the position
of their arms is not to be made out; and though the figures in my sketch27 appear so very
imperfect, I doubt they are too perfect rather, to be strictly just to the original.
A spot close
[f. 52v]
[f. 53]
in the neighbourhood of Brecon, calld the 'Priory
Groves,' the property of Lord Camden, forms a beautiful walk for the town's people, a stream
makes its way over a number of rocky obstructions in a deep valley below, keeping a continual
murmur, though allmost entirely hid by the trees.
(Left Brecon Monday morning, 24th)
This day's journey was to take us to Hereford. we
could not attempt to climb 'the Vann' in the
neighbourhood, esteem'd the highest in South Wales; and which, during our Sunday's ride and
this morning were continually cap'd by clouds. (N.B. Price, the farmer, said he could almost to
a certainty foretel rain, by the appearance of the clouds on the Vann.) Mr and Mrs Morgan in
their own chariot accompanied us as far as Hay; in the way to which town stands the remains of
Bronyliss Castle, one tower of which is nearly
perfect, except the floors. The walls of this tower are about eleven feet thick. The farmer on
the spot, makes use of it for a hay loft; and he has destroy'd great part of the other walls
and ruins to have the materials to fence his yard and build a stable! This form'd a pleasing
subject for the pencil, and my companions enjoyd it, During which, I was thinking of the River
Wye, and filling my pockets with Nuts. The Severn, and
the Wye, both take their rise from the mountain of Plenlimon. Hay, where we dined, stands on the
Wye, and we felt a kind of unaccountable affection for the stream that had in its lower
progress given us so much pleasure. Here is likewise fine remains of a castle; and in the
churchyard we observed a new grave strew'd with flowers! It is a Welsh custom, and
they are
[f. 54v]
[f. 55]
often not strewn, but planted on the grave; and carefully weeded by the
surviving friends of the deceased. In this case we only observed only <one> sprig of sweet-briar growing. It was a
beautiful, sad, and impressive sight; which will make me detest the unhallow'd mob of bones in
Bunhill fields more than I ever did before. let
me be buried any where but in a croud!
Here we parted with our Brecon friends,
and proceeded onwards, passing on the steep bank of the Wye the poor remains of Clifford Castle, said to be the birthplace of Fair
Rosamond.28 Cross'd the Wye a few miles
further on, and then had it on our right, during an uninterrupted ride to Hereford.
(At Hereford, Monday night)
During the whole ride the harvest was in all its glory. Orchards abound on each side of the
road and overhang the highway as plentifully as elms do in Suffolk; and the greatest crop is
hanging on the trees that has been known for many years.
Hereford is a clean lively city. We
lodged at the New Inn, and in the same house was residing the young Roscius, Wm Betty.29 He play'd Achmet30 on the evening of our
arrival, but I declined a squeeze on so hot an evening. I saw him in the Inn yard in the
morning; a well-made youth of about 5ft 6in — a good, but surely not by any means an expressive
countenance. I beg his pardon if I am wrong. He mounted his horse with a kind of toldarol
gaiety, and gallop'd out of the yard. ——— The tower of the cathedral
[f. 56]
has a strange, squaddy appearance, being exceedingly large, with turrets too
small, and the height not according well with the proportion of the building.31 The interior is elegant, and contains many very old monuments. But amongst
the oddest particulars of this church is the circumstance of its having two of the immense
arches under the tower in the interior of the church, supported by an upright
pillar dividing at the top, so as to destroy the beauty of the arch, and make a singular
appearance. These pillars are comparatively modern, and surely there must have been some other
cause, not now apparent, to induce any architect to attempt so paradoxical a fancy, as to
support an arch from beneath.
(Left Hereford at 11. on Tuesday)
This day's journey was to take us from Hereford to
the Malvern Hills, and Mr F. B. having to call on his friend, Mr.
Hopton, of Canfrone, part of the company drove on for Ledbury, where we proposed meeting there again. Mr. Hopton has a house of no common
sort. it is very large, and fitted up in the first style of elegance, not fantastically modern.
Here we dined; and in the true spirit of old english hospitality, the venerable old squire
asked if we liked 'good beer'? and orderd the servant to bring a bottle of 'seventy-seven.' I
found that this beer was three years old, when it was, at the above date, put into bottles, and
was consequently brew'd when I was 8 years old. ———
We joind our party at Ledbury, and proceeded on for
Malvern Hills. Evening came on apace, and darkness
overtook us as we cross'd the Hills, and turned to the left towards Malvern Wells. The road is
but narrow, [f. 57] and runs on the side of the Hills, giving
us a starlight view of <the> descent below us, and of the emminence, not to say Mountain,
above. We reached the Well House, but they were, with all their appendages, full of company; no
beds could be had. Drove down to the town of Great Malvern, and received the same answer there!
not even a sitting-room could be had for refreshment! except an offer, (which was eventually
declined), and which we learned was made by Sir Robert Staples, of the use of his rooms for an
hour. It was eight miles further to Worcester, and the horses tired, and <now> very dark.
Every effort was made to procure accomodations, which at last was accomplishd, by procuring
beds at private houses, &c. —This caused more mirth than disappointment; for every one
set out at first with a determination to be pleased. I lodged at a shop which was
the post office; and being debarred from the accomodating articles that wait upon my beard, I
learnd that I could be shaved by a man in the house, and so it proved, for the post office man
was the shaver! though I took him from weighing tea and cheese. He was a surly old fellow, a
little on one side, and so was his house; for the flooring of my bedroom was more out of level
than I ever slep'd on before. It was solid oak, and I dare say perfectly sound; though a large
fracture, and there being no plaster below it, shew'd me the ostlers and maids at early
breakfast below me. One of the ostlers snuffled a good deal in his speech; the other was a wit;
and the maids (if they were such) were a tolerable match for them. ——This morning, having no
breakfast-room, had a table set in a garden, and the sun shining bright upon the craggy hills
just above us, made it a beautiful and singular scene. We took two
[f. 57v]
[f. 58]
saddle-horses for the Ladies, and all together began to ascend the highest peak of Old Malvern. It was laborious work! This majestic view has been
many hundred times described better than I can do it here. I will however remark, that the Malvern Hills are a range that rise in comparatively a flat
country and therefore command an extraordinary view. Amongst the round of objects which we
deliberately observed, are, on the Welsh side, and turning round to the right; the Sugar Loaf; the Skirit; the Black Mountains; the City of
Hereford; Clay Hills, and the Wreaken in Shropshire; Winbury Hills—The Lickey— Hagley
park— Worcester City (8 miles)—Malvern Abbey just below—the whole valey of Stratford on
Avon, very distant—Bredon Hill— The long heights of
Cotswold—Upton Bridge— <down towards the>
Severn's mouth, and allmost to the ocean! A ditch along the ridge of the hills, marks the
boundary between the counties of Gloucester and Hereford. I think if I lived on the spot I should climb the hills about twice a week
for six months, and then be able to give a tolerable account of the scene. Delightful Malvern!! I have said above that we all climbed the hill;
but Mrs F B. though she had reached the summit
of 'Pen y Vale' in a state (and far advanced) that
'all women would wish to be who love their lords,'32 was, I doubt, deterred from this
attempt; for I am sure her spirit would never fail if her reason approved. The old
abby church at Malvern, reminds one of a man Lost xx in a deep decline, and yet retaining about him
all that can attest his former strength and vigour. The woman who exhibited what was there to
be seen was much better informd than many in a similar situation and gave the most unaffected
detail I have ever heard. The whole fabric is uncommonly damp and discoloured; and unless
something is done to arrest the scythe of Time, the roof will soon be xxxx on the floor.
(Left Malvern for Tewkesbury Wednesday at one)
Leaving Malvern Hills, no other striking scenes which any presented themselves except works of art,
which, though I affect not to disregard, I am not so much taken with, or able or willing to
describe. From the summit of Malvern, we had observed
Upton Bridge in the valley, and now pass'd it in
the road to Tewkesbury.33 On
entering the latter place, I was uncommonly surprised, and delighted with the noble appearance
of the streets. A width and length, and clearness, and great respectability that I had not been
at all apprised of. Bury St. Ed. I had always
esteem'd a fine clean town, but the street by which we entered Tewkesby is at least twice, and at places thrice as wide
as the Abby-gate Stt, and 4 times its length, a more respectable street than Holboun. The Stratford Avon over which we pass'd, falls
into the Severn at Tewkesbury. The Abby Church has of late years been beautified34 and repaired by Mr Wyatt;35 and as to pulpit and seats is the neatest that can be imagined. Prince
Edward, son of Edward ye 4th Henry the Sixth, said to be murder'd by Richard after the battle
of Tewkesby, lies here in the centre of the church,
with a small brass inscription. This evening was spent with a peculiar pleasure, which we had
been promised from our first setting out. Mr. R. B.
Cooper had with him his MS poem (unfinishd), <in> which he describes his neighbour
'Stinchcomb Hill'— He read it with very good
effect, and it spoke most amply for its subject and its author. I hope some day to see it
finish'd. Here likewise took place a [f. 58v] general
exhibition and comparison of notes and sketches and much good will, and <with> allowances for the bad, and enjoyment of the good.
(Left Tewkesbury Thursday morning,
for Gloucester, and home)
It was agreed to proceed this last day's journey by way of Cheltenham, and thence to Gloucester to dinner. Cheltenham appears to be an increasing town, full of
dashing shops, and full of what is often called Life, (i.e.) high life. I am not qualified to
judge of high life, and may be laughed at for my strictures, but as I never feel happy in Bond street, I see no reason that I should here. The
visitors seem distrest for somthing to do, and I know <of> no calamity equal to it. I
proposed calling on Doctor Jenner who join'd our
party in the walks, and sent a Cheltenham gift for
my wife, which shall remain in my family with his former tokens between us36 —The prince
was at Cheltenham, and though the votaries of fashion follow him as gnats do a horse, to sting
him, or to be lashd to death, I Found all moralists, and all thinkers, through the whole xxxxx <town> speak of him with a shake of the
head, and a humbled, and negative kind of exultation—I hope the feeling will last as long as
truth and history. Spent about 3 hours at Cheltenham, and drove on for Gloucester, where we dined at three at the King's Head. The
Cathedrial is beauty itself. Westminster is black and venerable, Canterbury is gigantic, and
mix'd in its beauties, but this, and particularly the Tower, is a noble and lovely object. We
look at it as we would at a beautiful woman, without cessation, and without tiring. Gloucester
Cathedrial is the burial place of Robert of Normandy, and of Edward ye Second, murder'd at Berkeley.— The city is fine, and is a busy scene,
but I was more struck with Tewkesbury. From Gloucester we proceeded for home, which we reached
about nine at night;
'Nor stop'd, till where we first got up
We did again get down.'—
37
Dursley and Uley
as I have said already are singularly beautiful as to situation, yet such is the force of a set
of new Ideas, that the most facitious individuals of the party <now> thought their
beauties tame, because they were compared with what we had seen. I have imbibed the highest
degree of affection for all the individuals of the party, from the most natural cause in the
world—because they all seem'd glad to give me pleasure— and I shall forget them all—when my
grave is strewn with Flowers.
R Bloomfield
N. B. Before I left the country, visited Berkeley
Castle, and gained much comparative information from here observing a Castle still
habitable and perfect, with all the characteristics of a Castle which I had so repeatedly seen
in a state of dilapidation. The room where Edward was murderd has a horrid kind of appearance.
I returnd to London by way of Oxford, and spent a day there for fear I should never have such
another chance. But to tell here of Oxford sights, great and highly interesting as
they are, will never do. I leave the task to hands more methodical and more able
And am most glady at the end of my transcribing duty
R. B.
[f. 59]
[f. 59 map]
