freshness and beauty around decay. The north view of this edifice, which the pencil and the graver have so graphically represented, conveys, perhaps, the best idea of its original grandeur and extent; the walls on the south having been destroyed by that great leveller of strongholds, Oliver Cromwell.

A few of the apartments are yet in a great measure entire; among these is the great banqueting-hall, of regal capaciousness, in earlier days the seat of feudal pomp and magnificent hospitality. Three ancient coats of arms still decorate the entrance. The splendid stateroom, too, of still greater dimensions, in which there. are are yet remains of elegant marble cornices, and fireplaces with Corinthian columns, rich in device and exquisite in workmanship, is now tenanted by birds of prey. Silence reigns in these halls; not that of repose, but of utter desolation and irremediable ruin-a silence deep and unbroken, save from the footfall of the solitary traveller.

Carew Castle-formerly the residence of a Welsh prince and a long line of regal and lordly lineage, also part of the portion of the beautiful Nest on her marriage with Gerald de Windsor-in its high and palmy days, transcended most of its feudal contemporaries; its courts and halls have been thronged with gallant knights and their retainers, and made vocal with the minstrelsy of that heroic age; its tapestried rooms have entertained the fairest dames of Cambria, in those days of love and chivalry, and have echoed to the chanson amoureux of the wayward troubadour; and many a palmer has held his audience in breathless wonder, as he told the marvellous tales of his weary wanderings in

foreign lands. High and festal days has Carew Castle seen, when royal visitors, in long succession, were entertained within its walls. Various, indeed, has been the fate of this stronghold of feudal power. Carew Castle has borne the stern brunt of ruthless war-it has suffered many a protracted sicge-it has heard the lament of many a solitary prisoner in its donjon, and witnessed many a secret or open deed of blood. But gallant knights, and fair dames, and merry minstrels, and mysterious pilgrims, have all vanished, like the visions in Banquo's glass, and lone and grass-grown courts and crumbling walls, and scattered fragments, with the scroll of the veritable chronicler, alone remain to tell that such things were.

This structure appears to be of different ages. According to Leland, it was remodelled and enlarged by Sir Rhys ap Thomas. On the south side it opened upon a handsome and extensive deer-park. In part of this ground the same knight held a special tournament, with other warlike games and pastimes, in honour of St. George, for the entertainment of Henry VII., when on his route to Bosworth field, to which came men of "prime ranke" from all parts. "This festivall and time of jollitie continued the space of five dayes," as the historian relates, and "tentes and pavillions were pitched in the parke, neere to the castle," for the spectators of these "rare solemnities, wheare they quartered all the time, everie man according to his qualities."

Near the entrance to the lawn, in front of the castle, just on the road-side leading to Carew church and village, stands one of the early crosses, in the centre of which is an elaborate inscription that cannot now be deciphered.

BRARY

THE

CHAPTER XII.

MILFORD HAVEN-MILFORD-HAVERFORDWEST

FISHGUARD-CARDIGAN.

Wave after wave,

If such they might be called, dashed as in sport,
Not anger, with the pebbles on the beach,
Making wild music, and far westward caught
The sunbeam; where, alone and as entranced,
Counting the hours, the fisher in his skiff
Lay with his circular and dotted line
On the bright waters.-ROGERS.

THE next morning after returning from Carew to Pembroke, I hired a boat from the latter place, intending, in company with a friend, to cruise about the Haven during the day, and to take up my quarters at Milford in the evening. Upon clearing a little way off Pembroke, the waters of what may be called the southern arm of Milford Haven became enlarged, stretching in parts a mile across, and having the appearance of an extensive lake encircled by rising ground-the outlet of this great body of water, at the straits called Pennar Mouth, not being more than two hundred yards broad. Here the tide of course runs with great rapidity eitehr up or down; and boats cannot readily work against the power of the stream. Leaving behind us the Pennar heights, and entering