45

A SUMMER DAY AT ST. DAVID'S.

MANY of my readers, no doubt, have seen the beauties of Tenby and Milford Haven; but to-day I would ask them to transport themselves with me to the town of Haverfordwest, prepared to start on an expedition farther westward still to the once archiepiscopal city of St. David's, now, alas! reduced to the dimensions of a village, unable even to support a weekly market. They will own, I think, that it is one of those places which amply repay a visit, not merely to the antiquary or ecclesiastical architect, but to the man of finished taste, who has an eye educated to appreciate grand and imposing scenes, even amid their ruins.

A drive of some fifteen or sixteen miles westward from Haverford over a very rough and stony road, after a long series of ascents and descents, brings us past Roche Castle and the little town of Solva, to some high ground, rather bare of trees, commanding the view of a pleasant valley below. In that valley

lies Menevia, now called St. David's. The first object that strikes our eyes on reaching this point is the top of the heavy square tower of the Cathedral, standing out against the grey moorland hills beyond. Presently, as we pass on between rows of whitewashed cottages, we find ourselves close to an ancient cross of the plainest kind, the top of which has been lately restored. This was once the market-cross of a flourishing town; and, though the market is gone, it still stands as if to remind us that we stand on sacred ground, and that we are within the precincts of a cathedral town; nay, of what was once an archiepiscopal city.

Whoever enters St. David's with any of those grand expectations in which the mind is apt to indulge on entering a cathedral city, cannot fail to be disappointed. The houses are of a third or fourth rate description, and mostly daubed over with whitewash, and that irregular row of houses before you is the High Street. Certainly it contains an inn; but there is scarcely a shop in the place; and if the visitor is determined to stay a few days here, I should recommend him to make his own arrangements with a butcher at Haverford, for woe be to him if he depends on finding one here! Such at least was my experience at Menevia a few years ago.

The modern village-for I can dignify it by no grander term-lies on the outside of the cathedral precincts. The names of several of the old streets

are still preserved, even where the houses have passed into decay, and the courses of other streets may be traced by long lines of ruins and foundations in almost every direction.

The ground occupied by the cathedral and the adjoining buildings is called the Close, and is a full mile in circumference, extending as it does a considerable way up the side of the hill. These precincts were once entered by four strong and massive gateways, three of which live in tradition only, having long since been demolished, though the fourth, the eastern or Tower-gate, is still standing near the bottom of High Street. Porth-y-Twr, as it is styled by the natives, is flanked by two towers, one of which is octagonal, and rises to the height of nearly sixty feet. Its interior is divided into several stories, and some of its apartments were formerly used for holding the Consistory Courts of the diocese. From this tower we get a beautiful panorama of the Cathedral, the Bishop's Palace, St. Mary's College, and the Prebendal houses.

The Cathedral, which is dedicated to St. David and St. Andrew, is a noble cruciform structure in spite of its sad dilapidations, the results partly of neglect and of wind and rain, and partly of plunder and fanaticism. In spite of all the havoc that has been made upon its fabric, it is still in plan and design by far the finest of the four Welsh cathedrals. Its square tower, as we have said, is heavy and cumbrous,

and top-heavy, and is but little relieved by the poor parapet and pinnacles which surmount it; the almost entire absence of windows, and the fact that the parapet projects outwards, are further causes of its unsightliness. The western front of the Cathedral, having become ruinous, was restored towards the close of the last century by Nash, under the episcopate of Dr. Horsley. It is perhaps too much to insist that a prelate, or even an architect, of that age, should have been acquainted with the principles of Gothic architecture; but the visitor can scarcely fail to notice what a sorry figure the west front cuts by the side of the massive and venerable specimen of ancient skill to which it is added as a supplement.

Entering by the south-west porch, we find ourselves in the very handsome nave. This is divided from the side aisles by two rows of fine massive Norman pillars, alternately round and octagonal, and with corresponding pilasters at each end, supporting six round arches of ornamental Norman work. Over these again is a range of smaller Norman pillars, of less dimensions, reaching to the roof. The ceiling is of Irish oak, divided into square compartments, and it is justly admired for the elegance of its design and for the finish of its workmanship.

Passing up to the east end of the nave, a flight of steps leads us to the choir, which we enter through the screen by an arched passage under a very massive rood-loft. The screen, a part of the work of Bishop