SIR,
The Bath lies very low, is but a small city, but very compact, and one can hardly imagine it could accommodate near the company that frequents it at least three parts of the year. I have been told of 8,000 families there at a time--some for the benefit of drinking its hot waters, others for bathing, and others for diversion and pleasure (of which, I must say, it affords more than any public place of that kind in Europe).
I told you in my former letters that Epsom and Tunbridge do not allow visiting (the companies there meet only on the walks); but here visits are received and returned, assemblies and balls are given, and parties at play in most houses every night, to which one Mr. Nash hath for many years contributed very much. This gentleman is by custom a sort of master of ceremonies of the place; he is not of any birth nor estate, but by a good address and assurance ingratiates himself into the good graces of the ladies and the best company in the place, and is director of all their parties of pleasure. He wears good clothes, is always affluent of money, plays very much, and whatever he may get in private, yet in public he always seems to lose. The town have been for many years so sensible of the service he does them that they ring the bells generally at his arrival in town, and, it is thought, pay him a yearly contribution for his support.
In the morning early the company of both sexes meet at the Pump (in a great hall enrailed), to drink the waters and saunter about till prayer- time, or divert themselves by looking on those that are bathing in the bath. Most of the company go to church in the morning in dishabille, and then go home to dress for the walks before dinner. The walks are behind the church, spacious and well shaded, planted round with shops filled with everything that contributes to pleasure, and at the end a noble room for gaming, from whence there are hanging-stairs to a pretty garden for everybody that pays for the time they stay, to walk in.
I have often wondered that the physicians of these places prescribe gaming to their patients, in order to keep their minds free from business and thought, that their waters on an undisturbed mind may have the greater effect, when indeed one cross-throw at play must sour a man's blood more than ten glasses of water will sweeten, especially for such great sums as they throw for every day at Bath.
The King and Queen's Baths, which have a communication with one another, are the baths which people of common rank go into promiscuously; and indeed everybody, except the first quality. The way of going into them is very comical: a chair with a couple of chairmen come to your bedside (lie in what storey you will), and there strip you, and give you their dress without your shift, and wrapping you up in blankets carry you to the bath.
When you enter the bath, the water seems very warm; and the heat much increases as you go into the Queen's Bath, where the great spring rises. On a column erected over the spring is an inscription of the first finder- out of these springs, in the following words: that "Bladud, the son of Lud, found them three hundred years before Christ." The smoke and slime of the waters, the promiscuous multitude of the people in the bath, with nothing but their heads and hands above water, with the height of the walls that environ the bath, gave me a lively idea of several pictures I had seen, of Angelo's in Italy of Purgatory, with heads and hands uplifted in the midst of smoke, just as they are here. After bathing, you are carried home in your chair, in the same manner you came.
The Cross Bath, which is used by the people of the first quality, was beautified and inclosed for the convenience of the late King James's queen, who after the priests and physicians had been at work to procure a male successor to the throne of Great Britain, the Sacrament exposed in all the Roman Catholic countries, and for that end a sanctified smock sent from the Virgin Mary at Loretto, the queen was ordered to go to Bath and prepare herself, and the king to make a progress through the western counties and join her there. On his arrival at Bath, the next day after his conjunction with the queen, the Earl of Melfort (then Secretary of State for Scotland) erected a fine prophetic monument in the middle of the Bath, as an everlasting monument of that conjunction. I call it "prophetic," because nine months after a Prince of Wales was born. This monument is still entire and handsome, only some of the inscriptions on the pillar were erased in King William's time. The angels attending the Holy Ghost as He descends, the Eucharist, the Pillar, and all the ornaments are of fine marble, and must have cost that earl a great deal of money. He was second son to Drummond, Earl of Perth, in North Britain; and was Deputy Governor of the Castle of Edinburgh when the Duke and Duchess of York came to Scotland, in King Charles the Second's time. He was a handsome gentleman, with a good address, and went into all the measures of that court, and at all their balls generally danced with the duchess; who, on their accession to the throne, sent for him up to London, made him Secretary of State for Scotland, created him Earl of Melfort, and Knight of the Order of St. Andrew. His elder brother was also made Chancellor and Governor of Scotland. And on King James's abdication, as the two brothers followed the king's fortunes, the Earl of Perth was made governor to the young prince; and Melfort was created a duke, had the Garter, and was a great man in France to his dying day.
There is another bath for lepers.
The cathedral church is small but well lighted. There are abundance of little monuments in it of people who come there for their health, but meet with their death.
These waters have a wonderful influence on barren ladies, who often prove with child even in their husbands' absence; who must not come near them till their bodies are prepared.
Everything looks gay and serene here; it is plentiful and cheap. Only the taverns do not much improve, for it is a place of universal sobriety. To be drunk at Bath is as scandalous as mad. Common women are not to be met with here so much as at Tunbridge and Epsom. Whether it is the distance from London, or that the gentlemen fly at the highest game, I cannot tell; besides, everything that passes here is known on the walks, and the characters of persons.
In three hours one arrives from Bath at Bristol, a large, opulent, and fine city; but, notwithstanding its nearness, by the different manners of the people seems to be another country. Instead of that politeness and gaiety which you see at Bath, here is nothing but hurry--carts driving along with merchandises, and people running about with cloudy looks and busy faces. When I came to the Exchange I was surprised to see it planted round with stone pillars, with broad boss-plates on them like sun- dials, and coats-of-arms with inscriptions on every plate.
They told me that these pillars were erected by eminent merchants for the benefit of writing and despatching their affairs on them, as on tables; and at 'Change time the merchants take each their stands by their pillars, that masters of ships and owners may know where to find them.
Coffee-houses and taverns lie round the 'Change, just as at London; and the Bristol milk, which is Spanish sherry (nowhere so good as here), is plentifully drunk.
The city of Bristol is situated much like Verona, in Italy. A river runs through almost the middle of it, on which there is a fine stone bridge. The quay may be made the finest, largest, and longest in the world by pulling down an old house or two. Behind the quay is a very noble square, as large as that of Soho in London, in which is kept the Custom House; and most of the eminent merchants who keep their coaches reside here. The cathedral is on the other side of the river, on the top of the hill, and is the meanest I have seen in England. But the square or green adjoining to it has several fine houses, and makes by its situation, in my opinion, much the pleasantest part of the town. There are some churches in the city finer than the cathedral, and your merchants have their little country-seats in the adjacent eminences; of which that of Mr. Southwell hath a very commanding prospect, both of the city, the River Severn, and the shipping that lies below.
There are hot springs near Bristol that are also very much frequented, and are reckoned to be better than the Bath for some distempers.
A traveller when he comes to the Bath must never fail of seeing Badminton, belonging to the Dukes of Beaufort; nor Longleat, belonging to my Lord Weymouth. They are both within a few miles of the Bath. King William, when he took Badminton in his way from Ireland, told the duke that he was not surprised at his not coming to court, having so sumptuous a palace to keep a court of his own in. And indeed the apartments are inferior to few royal palaces. The parks are large, and enclosed with a stone wall; and that duke, whom I described to you in my letter from Windsor, lived up to the grandeur of a sovereign prince. His grandson, who was also Knight of the Garter, made a great figure in the reign of Queen Anne. The family, which is a natural branch of the house of Lancaster, have always distinguished themselves of the Tory side. The present duke is under age.
Longleat, though an old seat, is very beautiful and large; and the gardens and avenue, being full-grown, are very beautiful and well kept. It cost the late Lord Weymouth a good revenue in hospitality to such strangers as came from Bath to see it.
The biggest and most regular house in England was built near Bristol by the late Lord Stawell; but it being judged by his heirs to be too big for the estate, they are pulling it down and selling the materials.
As the weather grows good, I shall proceed through South Wales to Chester, from whence you shall soon hear from me, who am without reserve, sir, your most humble, &c.
FROM CHESTER TO HOLYHEAD.
Chester.
SIR,
I crossed the Severn at the ferry of Ash, about ten miles above Bristol, and got to Monmouth to dinner through a rugged, indifferent country. It is a pitiful old town, and hath nothing remarkable in it; and from thence through a fat fertile country I got to the city of Hereford at night.
Hereford is the dirtiest old city I have seen in England, yet pretty large; the streets are irregular and the houses old, and its cathedral a reverend old pile, but not beautiful; the niches of the walls of the church are adorned with the figures of its bishops as big as the life, in a cumbent posture, with the year of their interments newly painted over. Some of them are in the twelve hundredth year of Christ. Here they drink nothing but cider, which is very cheap and very good; and the very hedges in the country are planted with apple-trees. About three miles from Hereford in my road to Ludlow I saw a fine old seat called Hampton Court, belonging to my Lord Coningsby. The plantations on rising grounds round it give an august splendour to the house, which consists of an oval court with suitable offices, not unlike an house belonging to the Duke of Somerset near London; and from thence in a few hours I arrived at Ludlow, the capital of South Wales, and where the Princes of Wales formerly, and since them the Presidents of Wales, kept their courts.
Ludlow is one of the neatest, clean, pretty towns in England. The street by which you enter the town is spacious, with handsome houses sash-windowed on each side, which leads you by an ascent to the castle on the left of the top of the hill, and the church on the right, from whence there runs also another handsome street. The castle hath a very commanding prospect of the adjacent country; the offices in the outer court are falling down, and a great part of the court is turned into a bowling-green; but the royal apartments in the castle, with some old velvet furniture and a sword of state, are still left. There is also a neat little chapel; but the vanity of the Welsh gentry when they were made councillors has spoiled it by adorning it with their names and arms, of which it is full.
A small expense would still make this castle a habitable and beautiful place, lying high, and overlooking a fine country; there is also a fine prospect from the churchyard, and the church is very neat. I saw abundance of pretty ladies here, and well dressed, who came from the adjacent counties, for the convenience and cheapness of boarding. Provisions of all sorts are extremely plentiful and cheap here, and very good company.
I stayed some days here, to make an excursion into South Wales and know a little of the manners of the country, as I design to do at Chester for North Wales. The gentry are very numerous, exceedingly civil to strangers, if you don't come to purchase and make your abode amongst them. They live much like Gascoynes--affecting their own language, valuing themselves much on the antiquity of their families, and are proud of making entertainments.
The Duke of Powis, of the name of Herbert, hath a noble seat near this town, but I was not at it; the family followed King James's fortunes to France, and I suppose the seat lies neglected. From Ludlow in a short day's riding through a champaign country I arrived at the town of Shrewsbury.
Shrewsbury stands upon an eminence, encircled by the Severn like a horse- shoe; the streets are large, and the houses well built. My Lord Newport, son to the Earl of Bradford, hath a handsome palace, with hanging gardens down to the river; as also Mr. Kinnaston, and some other gentlemen. There is a good town-house, and the most coffee-houses round it that ever I saw in any town; but when you come into them, they are but ale-houses (only they think that the name of coffee-house gives a better air). King Charles would have made them a city, but they chose rather to remain a corporation, as they are, for which they were called the "proud Salopians." There is a great deal of good company in this town, for the convenience of cheapness; and there are assemblies and balls for the young ladies once a week. The Earl of Bradford and several others have handsome seats near it; from hence I came to Wrexham, in Wales, a beautiful market-town; the church is the beautifullest country church in England, and surpasses some cathedrals. I counted fifty-two statues as big as the life in the steeple or tower, which is built after the manner of your Dutch steeples, and as high as any there. I was there on a market-day, and was particularly pleased to see the Welsh ladies come to market in their laced hats, their own hair hanging round their shoulders, and blue and scarlet cloaks like our Amazons--some of them with a greyhound in a string in their hands.
Whitchurch, near it, hath a fine church, built by the Earl of Bridgwater; and so to Chester, an ancient and large city, with a commanding castle. The city consists of four large streets, which make an exact cross, with the town-house and Exchange in the middle; but you don't walk the streets here, but in galleries up one pair of stairs, which keeps you from the rain in winter, and sun in summer; and the houses and shops, with gardens, go all off these galleries, which they call rows. The city is walled round, and the wall so firmly paved that it gives you an agreeable prospect of the country and river, as you walk upon it. The churches are very neat, and the cathedral an august old pile; there is an ancient monument of an Emperor of Germany, with assemblies every week. While I continued at Chester, I made an excursion into North Wales, and went into Denbigh, the capital of that country, where are the remains of a very great and old castle, as is also at Flint, the capital of Flintshire. These castles were the frontier garrisons of Wales before it came under the subjection of England. The country is mountainous, and full of iron and lead works; and here they begin to differ from the English both in language and dress.
From Flint, along the seaside, in three hours I arrived at the famous cold bath called St. Winifred's Well; and the town from thence called Holywell is a pretty large well-built village, in the middle of a grove, in a bottom between, two hills. The well is in the foot of one of the hills, and spouts out about the bigness of a barrel at once, with such force that it turns three or four mills before it falls into the sea. The well where you bathe is floored with stone surrounded with pillars, on which stands a neat little chapel dedicated to St. Winifred, but now turned into a Protestant school. However, to supply the loss of this chapel, the Roman Catholics have chapels erected almost in every inn for the devotion of the pilgrims that flock hither from all the Popish parts of England. The water, you may imagine, is very cold, coming from the bowels of an iron mountain, and never having met with the influence of the sun till it runs from the well.
The legend of St. Winifred is too long and ridiculous for a letter; I leave you to Dr. Fleetwood (when Bishop of St. Asaph) for its description. I will only tell you, in two words, that this St. Winifred was a beautiful damsel that lived on the top of the hill; that a prince of the country fell deeply in love with her; that coming one day when her parents were abroad, and she resisting his passion, turned into rage, and as she was flying from him cut off her head, which rolled down the hill with her body, and at the place where it stopped gushed out this well of water. But there was also a good hermit that lived at the bottom of the hill, who immediately claps her head to her body, and by the force of the water and his prayers she recovered, and lived to perform many miracles for many years after. They give you her printed litanies at the well. And I observed the Roman Catholics in their prayers, not with eyes lifted up to heaven, but intent upon the water, as if it were the real blood of St. Winifred that was to wash them clean from all their sins.
In every inn you meet with a priest, habited like country gentlemen, and very good companions. At the "Cross Keys," where I lodged, there was one that had been marked out to me, to whom I was particularly civil at supper; but finding by my conversation I was none of them, he drank and swore like a dragoon, on purpose, as I imagine, to disguise himself. From Holywell in two hours I came to a handsome seat of Sir John Conway's at Redland, and next day to Conway.
I do not know any place in Europe that would make a finer landscape in a picture than Conway at a mile's distance. It lies on the side of a hill, on the banks of an arm of the sea about the breadth of the Thames at London, and within two little miles of the sea, over which we ferry to go to the town.
The town is walled round, with thirty watch-towers at proper distances on the walls; and the castle with its towers, being very white, makes an august show at a distance, being surrounded with little hills on both sides of the bay or river, covered with wood. But when you cross the ferry and come into the town, there is nothing but poverty and misery. The castle is a heap of rubbish uncovered, and these towers on the walls only standing vestiges of what Wales was when they had a prince of their own.
They speak all Welsh here, and if a stranger should lose his way in this county of Carnarvon, it is ten to one if he meets with any one that has English enough to set him right. The people are also naturally very surly, and even if they understand English, if you ask them a question their answer is, "Dame Salsenach," or "I cannot speak Saxon or English." Their Bibles and prayer-books are all printed in Welsh in our character; so that an Englishman can read their language, although he doth not understand a word of it. It hath a great resemblance of the Bas-Bretons, but they retain the letter and character as well as language, as the Scots and Highlanders do.
They retain several Popish customs in North Wales, for on Sunday (after morning service) the whole parish go to football till the afternoon service begins, and then they go to the ale-house and play at all manner of games (which ale-house is often kept by the parson, for their livings are very small).
They have also offerings at funerals, which is one of the greatest perquisites the parson hath. When the body is deposited in the church during the service for the dead, every person invited to the burial lays a piece of money upon the altar to defray the dead person's charges to the other world, which, after the ceremony is over, the parson puts in his pocket. From Conway, through the mountainous country of Carnarvon, I passed the famous mountain of Penmaen-Mawr, so dreadfully related by passengers travelling to Ireland. It is a road cut out of the side of the rock, seven feet wide; the sea lies perpendicularly down, about forty fathoms on one side, and the mountain is about the same height above it on the other side. It looks dismal, but not at all dangerous, for there is now a wall breast-high along the precipice. However, there is an ale- house at the bottom of the hill on the other side, with this inscription, "Now your fright is over, take a dram." From hence I proceeded to a little town called Bangor, where there is a cathedral such as may be expected in Wales; and from thence to Carnarvon, the capital of the county. Here are the vestiges of a large old castle, where one of the Henrys, King of England, was born; as was another at Monmouth, in South Wales. For the Welsh were so hard to be reconciled to their union with England at first, it was thought policy to send our queens to lie-in there, to make our princes Welshmen born, and that way ingratiate the inhabitants to their subjection to a prince born in their own country. And for that reason our kings to this day wear a leek (the badge of Wales) on St. David's Day, the patron of this country; as they do the Order of the Thistle on St. Andrew's Day, the patron of Scotland.
Carnarvon is a pretty little town, situated in the bottom of a bay, and might be a place of good trade, if the country afforded a consumption.
The sea flows quite round from Bangor to Carnarvon Bay, which separates Anglesea from the rest of Wales, and makes it an island. Beaumaris, the capital of the island, hath been a flourishing town; there are still two very good streets, and the remains of a very large castle. The Lord Bulkeley hath a noble ancient seat planted with trees on the side of the hill above the town, from whence one hath a fine prospect of the bay and adjacent country; the church is very handsome, and there are some fine ancient monuments of that family and some Knights Templars in it. The family of Bulkeley keep in their family a large silver goblet, with which they entertain their friends, with an inscription round relating to the royal family when in distress, which is often remembered by the neighbouring gentry, whose affections run very much that way all over Wales.
I went from hence to Glengauny, the ancient residence of Owen Tudor, but now belongs to the Bulkeleys, and to be sold. It is a good old house, and I believe never was larger. There is a vulgar error in this country that Owen Tudor was married to a Queen of England, and that the house of York took that surname from him; whereas the Queen of England that was married to him was a daughter of the King of France and dowager of England, and had no relation to the Crown; he had indeed two daughters by her, that were married into English noble families--to one of which Henry VII. was related. But Owen Tudor was neither of the blood of the Princes of Wales himself, nor gave descent to that of the English. He was a private gentleman, of about 3,000 pounds a year, who came to seek his fortune at the English court, and the queen fell in love with him.
I was invited to a cock-match some miles from Glengauny, where were above forty gentlemen, most of them of the names of Owen, Parry, and Griffith; they fought near twenty battles, and every battle a cock was killed. Their cocks are doubtless the finest in the world; and the gentlemen, after they were a little heated with liquor, were as warm as their cocks. A great deal of bustle and noise grew by degrees after dinner was over; but their scolding was all in Welsh, and civilities in English. We had a very great dinner; and the house (called The College) where we dined was built very comically; it is four storeys high, built on the side of a hill, and the stable is in the garret. There is a broad stone staircase on the outside of the house, by which you enter into the several apartments. The kitchen is at the bottom of the hill, a bedchamber above that, the parlour (where we dined) is the third storey, and on the top of the hill is the stable.
From hence I stepped over to Holyhead, where the packet-boats arrive from Ireland. It is a straggling, confused heap of thatched houses built on rocks; yet within doors there are in several of them very good accommodation for passengers, both in lodging and diet.
The packet-boats from Dublin arrive thrice a week, and are larger than those to Holland and France, fitted with all conveniences for passengers; and indeed St. George's Channel requires large ships in winter, the wind being generally very boisterous in these narrow seas.
On my return to Chester I passed over the mountain called Penmaen Ross, where I saw plainly a part of Ireland, Scotland, England, and the Isle of Man all at once.
