usual interest. Its architectural relics are frequently of striking character and of great antiquity. Customs and ceremonies, forgotten elsewhere, often linger about the shrine with which they were once connected, shattered and even destroyed as that may be; and above all, the country is certain to contain those early and picturesque traditions which, however they may have arisen, connect the saint and his story with the surrounding natural features, the hills, the rocks, and the streams. Local folk-lore, having its roots far back in the soil of heathenism, has almost always been gathered into and made a portion of the religious legend. History again, and her handmaid geography, nowhere reflect such light on one another as in such a district.

There is no such 'terra sancta' in any part of Great Britain, perhaps none in Christendom, more remarkable than Dewisland, as the hundred is called the land of Dewi (the Welsh form of David)—a territory which, like Ireland, all noxious creatures are forbidden to enter, though it is said that in this respect the power of the saint is losing somewhat of its ancient force. The land of the great patron of Wales, the only Welsh or Cornish saint who has received a formal place in the calendars of the Western Church, is in itself so wild and isolated, the coast which bounds it is one of such surpassing grandeur, and the mysterious relics of days far more primitive than those of the saint cromlechs, rude stone shafts, and cliff castles-are here so numerous, that these attractions would alone be sufficient to draw the antiquary or the lover of nature to the promontory of St. David's-with the

exception of the Land's End, the

Britain. But to these must be added the historical interest of the district, the traces yet lingering in it of the real St. David, besides those which mark his legendary story; and the wonderful group of buildings over which the cathedral presides, clustered in the hollow of a wild valley and backed by rocky hills of true mountainous outline. The place was always remote and difficult of access, and the toils and dangers encountered by pilgrims to the shrine gave rise to the saying that two visits to St. David's equalled the merit of one visit to Rome:

Meneviam pete bis, Romam adire si vis,
Æqua merces tibi redditur hic et ibi.
Roma semel quantum dat bis Menevia

tantum.

A glance at the map will show at once the extreme westerly position of St. David's. It is the point at which the British coast approaches most nearly to that of Ireland, and the outlines of the Wicklow hills are occasionally seen across the Channel, here not quite fifty miles in breadth. St. David's Head, the Octopitarum of Ptolemy, is itself the northernmost point of a broad promontory, separating the beautiful Bay of St. Bride's from that of Abereiddy. The coast of the promontory is broken into numerous small bays and inlets, guarded by lofty walls of rock, the dark colour of which contrasts finely with the surf that breaks against them. These rocks, which belong to the Cambrian series, the most ancient sedimentary rocks known to geologists, and which extend throughout Dewisland, indicate that the territory of St. David has existed as an island in more than one primæval sea, when (except the few points at which they also ap

pear only in Wales, and at the Prawle and Bolt, the extreme southern headlands of Devonshire) the rest of Britain was still in course of formation beneath the waves. The surface formed by the Cambrian rocks is comparatively level; but over the district, some times parallel with the coast, yet extending far inland, masses of igneous rock, greenstones, and porphyries have broken upwards and form rocky eminences, of no very great height, but occasionally, as in Carn Llidi, of the grandest and boldest outline, resembling in general character the granite tors that rise from the high table-land of Dartmoor. The open country is intersected by deep valleys, through which streamlets find their way to the sea, the most important of which are the Solva and the Alan. The latter is the river on which stands the Cathedral of St. David's.

The character of the country is seen at once from one of the rocky heights, and best of all from the peaked, jagged Carn Llidi-the

rock of the black lion,' or the rock of the black host,' as the name is variously interpreted. It is a wide-horizoned district-for the eye ranges over half Pembrokeshire, including the farther coast of St. Bride's Bay, and seaward looks straight across to Ireland.

The

bare landscape, treeless, but with good corn land; the lines of stone enclosures; the brown moors, with their masses of broken rock and water plashes; the blown sands, and the 'grisly, fiendy rockës blake' of the coast recal the scenery of the Orkneys, of the remoter parts of Britanny and Cornwall, and still more of the western coast of Scotland. In common with all similar regions, and partly owing to its monotonous landward colouring, Dewisland has a grave, half-sad expression, which, toward the twilight of a stormy day, is greatly increased by the whitened walls and

roofs of the scattered farms. The slated roofs are said to be preserved and strengthened by this whitening, and are thus better able to withstand the strong winds that constantly sweep over the country. The air, bracing as it is, is soft and exquisitely pure. There is little or no frost. Very large hydrangeas display their pink and blue flowers within the stone walls of many a cottage garden, and the ilex, where it has been planted, grows to a considerable size. This mildness of climate, if we are to believe that it existed at the earlier periods of the historical era, cannot have been without its influence on the primitive settlement of the coast, and may partly account for the many 'cyttiau,' or hut-circles, enclosures, and cliff castles, which bear witness to a considerable ancient popula tion. It may well be remembered, too, in considering the lives of the first Christian solitaries and ascetics, among whom was St. David himself, who founded their oratories in this remote district.

Such a country as this, wild and bare as it is, is one of those over which the sky-changes are most numerous and impressive. Every cloudlet, or the faintest break of light, produces its effect; and turning seaward, where the monotony of colouring at once disappears, nothing can exceed the beauty of the varying light and shadow, the half-veiling mists and the bursts of sunshine, as they follow each other along the lines of the rocky headlands and far over the open sea. From Carn Llidi the whole extent of coast is in sight, beyond a foreground of heath and fern, strewn with rocky fragments, and stretching away to the dark cliffs of St. David's Head, marked by its stone rampart, Clawd-ymilwyr-the Warrior's Dyke'within which rise foundations of huts, cushioned with sea pink, and whitened by foam flakes carried by

the wind across the headland. Here it is seen that off the whole coast lie numerous rocky islands. The largest and most important is Ramsey, with a fine mountainous outline, and a range of cliff precipices on its seaward front, haunted in spring and summer by myriads of sea-birds, whose eggs are taken with as much zeal as in Norway or the Feroe Islands, and with hardly less difficulty. Seals frequent the caverns at the base of the cliffs; and it is said that no long time since as many as forty, young and old, were taken in one night, after a net had been stretched across the mouth of the cave. These cliff ranges are grander than those of the mainland; but they are less dangerous to seamen than the smaller rocks which lie off the north side of Ramsey, known as 'The Bishop and his Clerks of course with a reference to the neighbouring 'bishopstool' of St. David's. Ringed with surf, they rise black and splintered, and 'are not withoute some small quiristers, who shewe not themselves but at spring tydes and calme seas.... The Bishop and these his Clerkes preache deadly doctrine to their winter audience, such poor seafaring men as are forcyd thether by tempest; onlie in one thing they are to be commended, they keep residence better than the rest of the canons of that see are wont to do.' The Sound of Ramsey, between the island and the mainland, is filled with dangerous currents and eddies, and is not always easy of crossing. Beyond the island stretches away the Dewisland coast, with its headlands, its narrow 'porths' or havens, and its solitary ruined chapels, all connected with St. David, and at all of which seamen were accustomed to make offerings. Then follows the sweep of St. Bride's

Bay; and off the mainland, at its southern point, the islands of Skomar and Skogholm-recalling the Danes and Norsemen by whom for more than one century they were frequented, and from whom they received their present names. Against the horizon, on the farther shore of St. Bride's Bay, rise the ruined towers of Roche Castle, one of the many strongholds raised by the Norman conquerors for securing the subjection of South Wales. Thus the view from Carn Llidi presents existing relics, and suggests recollections, of the different races who have at various times possessed and frequented the district. The heathen Northmen paid little reverence to St. David or his cathedral. More than once they plundered the church and the House of the Clerks ;' but it is probable that the shrine of the great Welsh saint formed a certain bond of union between the Welshmen of Dyfed and their Norman lords, and that the common reverence paid to it was not without effect in bringing the two races into better harmony-so far as such harmony was ever attained.

In this wild country, low in the hollow of the valley, the upper part of its tower just visible from Carn Llidi, and the stream of the Alan almost washing its western front, stands the great cathedral-'Ty Dewi,' as it was called-the 'House of David;' regarded for long ages by all true Welshmen as the most sacred spot in Britain. There are two very striking views, from the northeast and from the south-east, of the cathedral and the group of surrounding buildings. Upon each of these views the stranger comes almost suddenly, owing to the steep fall of the river valley. Some trees cluster round the church on its north side, and, from their absence

VOL. III.-NO. XVI. NEW SERIES.

G G

elsewhere, give an additional charm to the scene. In front extends the cathedral, chiefly dating from the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, though the upper part of its tower, and nearly all its window tracery, built and inserted at a later period, give a Decorated character to its general exterior. The Lady chapel and adjoining portions are still in picturesque ruin. The restoration of the main body of the church, its nave and choir, is rapidly advancing. That of the choir and presbytery is complete. The nave, of transitional architecture, with a range of lofty clerestory arches much enriched, and with an elaborate oaken roof of the fifteenth century, which for the grace and intricacy of its peculiar ornament has no parallel in this country, is gradually recovering its ancient dignity and beauty. The warm colour of the stone of which the cathedral is built throughout combines with the richness of ornament to give an unusual air of completion to the interior. The eye does not seek, as elsewhere, for the additional decorations of fresco and polychrome; and even the bright hues of stained glass are not in too sharp contrast with the purples and dark greys of the sandstone. This stone, belong ing to the ancient Cambrian rocks before mentioned, is brought from Caerfae, one of the most picturesque of the many small bays that indent the shore. No other important building in Great Britain is built of such primitive stone. Its use gives an additional and a fitting distinction to St. David's.

A gatehouse with an enormous octagonal tower, so vast that, as has been suggested with much probability, it may have served as a campanile, opens to the close from the crest of the hill. In the level of the valley and across the river, but closely adjoining the cathedral, with which it groups in every view, are the ruins of the bishop's palace-a

vast and once magnificent structure, with a central court or quadrangle, now turfed with the brightest green sward, and a hall not unworthy of the most princely of prelates. The composition bears ample testimony to the taste and architectural skill of Bishop Gower, by whom the palace was built in the reign of Edward III. Its outer walls are crested by a parapet of open arches, most striking in the ruined condition of the palace, and especially by moonlight. The architectural group is completed by the chapel of St. Mary's College, on the north side of the cathedral. This, like the palace, is a ruin; but the walls, with a lofty and slender tower, remain entire, and contribute additional varieties of outline to the wonderful assemblage of buildings. No familiarity seems to lessen their effect.

The lonely situation; the wild background; the picturesque grouping, and the rich details, especially of the palace; the sharp contrast of the stately cathedral with the ferny hill-side close at hand, and the green river-holms dotted with black cattle; the exquisite colouring grey ruin, ivied walls, haunted by myriads of jackdaws, and tufted with pink valerian; the clear atmosphere, and the great arch of sky-day after day all these are seen and enjoyed with fresh delight and increasing wonder. The most unquestioning and least historical' of minds can hardly help asking how it happened that such a cathedral and such a group of buildings were raised in this extreme corner of the land; or desiring to know something more of the Saint whose house' it is, and to whose shrine pilgrims once found their way from all parts of Christendom.

Before attempting to trace, so far as that is possible, the history of St. David, it will be well to reenter the church, and like those earlier pilgrims to visit what still re

mains of the shrine. The shrine of a great saint usually consisted of at least three very distinct portions: (1) the stone base or foundation, a sort of altar tomb, on which rested (2) the feretory or portable shrine, plated with gold or silver, enriched with jewels, and containing the actual relics of the saint. The feretory was ordinarily hidden by (3) a lofty covering of wood, carved and illuminated, which was raised by means of a pulley whenever the shrine was exhibited. The most usual position for a shrine of great importance was at the back of the high altar, between that and the extreme eastern end of the church. The shrines, for example, of St. Thomas at Canterbury and of the Confessor in Westminster Abbey were thus placed. In the Cathedrals of Llandaff and of St. David's, however, it does not appear that the shrines of St. Teilo or St. David occupied this position at any time. At Llandaff the shrine of St. Teilo most probably stood on the south side of the presbytery. At St. David's the shrine of the patron saint of Wales was on the north side of the presbytery, occupying the whole of the second bay counting from the west. What now remains of the shrine is only the stone foundation on which the feretory rested. This consists, toward the presbytery, of a table resting on three low pointed arches, with deep quatrefoils in the spandrels. Three Early English arches, in which were anciently painted figures of St. David, St. Patrick, and St. Denis, rise at the back of the table, and divide it from the aisle. The wall of the shrine toward the aisle has at the base three round-headed arches, and quatrefoils in the upper part. There can be no doubt that what we now see is part of the shrine begun by Bishop Richard de Carew in 1275; and it was before it, then in all its fresh splendour, that Edward I. and his queen

Eleanor paid their vows and made their offerings when they visited St. David's in 1284, after the famous subjection of the Welsh princes. The quatrefoils in front and at the back of the shrine are now partly closed; but they seem to have been once sufficiently open. to admit the passage of the hand into a small space at the back of each, in which offerings were deposited. No long time since, stones remained in the aisle, indented by the knees of the long train of pilgrims who century after century had prayed there. In 1086, after the first translation of St. David, the date of which is uncertain, his feretory or portable shrine was stolen from the church, carried out of the 'dinas' or city, and broken up, of course for the sake of its gold and jewels. Of the fate of the later feretory nothing is known; nor are we anywhere told what became of the relics of St. David in the sixteenth century. The shrine was carried in solemn processions by the chantry priests; and the burgesses of St. David's were bound in time of war to follow the bishop with it for one day's journey. It does not appear that on any occasion the shrine was conveyed beyond the limits of the halidom.

The shrine of St. David was especially frequented by pilgrims from all parts of Wales; and it is somewhat remarkable that while certain of the saints' wells on the coast retain some portion of their ancient honour, no tradition is connected with the resting-place of the great saint, and no relic of the reverence once paid to it yet lingers. It is remembered that, not many years since, an offering of money was placed in one of the quatrefoiled openings by a stranger who knelt before the shrine, and who, as it was believed, was 'a great lord' on a pilgrimage of penitence; but the last vestige of local reverence seems to have died out about the begin