Neath Abbey was a very wealthy one, the
founder having endowed it with extensive tracts of fertile land
along the banks of the rivers Neath and Tawy. In it the
unfortunate Edward of Carnarvon sought a refuge for a few days from
the rage of his revolted barons, whilst his favourite, the equally
unfortunate Spencer, endeavoured to find a covert amidst the
thickets of the wood-covered hill to the north. When Richmond
landed at Milford Haven to dispute the crown with Richard the
Second, the then Abbot of Neath repaired to him and gave him his
benediction, in requital for which the adventurer gave him his
promise that in the event of his obtaining the crown, he would
found a college in Glen Neath, which promise, however, after he had
won the crown, he forgot to perform. (20) The wily abbot, when he
hastened to pay worship to what he justly conceived to be the
rising sun, little dreamt that he was about to bless the future
father of the terrible man doomed by Providence to plant the
abomination of desolation in Neath Abbey and in all the other nests
of monkery throughout the land.
Leaving the ruins I proceeded towards Neath. The scenery soon
became very beautiful; not that I had left machinery altogether
behind, for I presently came to a place where huge wheels were
turning, and there was smoke and blast, but there was much that was
rural and beautiful to be seen, something like park scenery, and
then there were the mountains near and in the distance. I reached
Neath at about half-past four, and took up my quarters at an inn
which had been recommended to me by my friend the boots at Swansea.
CHAPTER CIII
Town of Neath - Hounds and Huntsman - Spectral Chapel - The Glowing
Mountain
NEATH is a place of some antiquity, for it can boast of the remains
of a castle and is a corporate town. There is but little Welsh
spoken in it. It is situated on the Neath, and exports vast
quantities of coal and iron, of both of which there are rich mines
in the neighbourhood. It derives its name from the river Nedd or
Neth, on which it stands. Nedd or Neth is the same word as Nith,
the name of a river in Scotland, and is in some degree connected
with Nidda, the name of one in Germany. Nedd in Welsh signifies a
dingle, and the word in its various forms has always something to
do with lowness or inferiority of position. Amongst its forms are
Nether and Nieder. The term is well applied to the Glamorganshire
river, which runs through dingles and under mountains.
The Neath has its source in the mountains of Brecon, and enters the
sea some little way below the town of Neath.
On the Monday morning I resumed my journey, directing my course up
the vale of Neath towards Merthyr Tydvil, distant about four-and-
twenty miles. The weather was at first rainy, misty and miserable,
but improved by degrees. I passed through a village which I was
told was called Llanagos; close to it were immense establishments
of some kind. The scenery soon became exceedingly beautiful; hills
covered with wood to the tops were on either side of the dale. I
passed an avenue leading somewhere through groves, and was
presently overtaken and passed by hounds and a respectable-looking
old huntsman on a black horse; a minute afterwards I caught a
glimpse of an old red-brick mansion nearly embosomed in groves,
from which proceeded a mighty cawing. Probably it belonged to the
proprietor of the dogs, and certainly looked a very fit mansion for
a Glamorganshire squire, justice of the peace and keeper of a pack
of hounds.
I went on, the vale increasing in beauty; there was a considerable
drawback, however: one of those detestable contrivances, a
railroad, was on the farther side - along which trains were
passing, rumbling and screaming.
I saw a bridge on my right hand with five or six low arches over
the river, which was here full of shoals. Asked a woman the name
of the bridge.
"PONT FAWR ei galw, sir."
I was again amongst the real Welsh - this woman had no English.
I passed by several remarkable mountains, both on the south and
northern side of the vale. Late in the afternoon I came to the
eastern extremity of the vale and ascended a height. Shortly
afterwards I reached Rhigos, a small village.
Entering a public-house I called for ale and sat down amidst some
grimy fellows, who said nothing to me and to whom I said nothing -
their discourse was in Welsh and English. Of their Welsh I
understood but little, for it was a strange corrupt jargon. In
about half-an-hour after leaving this place I came to the beginning
of a vast moor. It was now growing rather dusk, and I could see
blazes here and there; occasionally I heard horrid sounds. Came to
Irvan, an enormous mining-place with a spectral-looking chapel,
doubtless a Methodist one. The street was crowded with rough,
savage-looking men. "Is this the way to Merthyr Tydvil?" said I to
one.
"Yes!" bawled the fellow at the utmost stretch of his voice.
"Thank you!" said I, taking off my hat and passing on.
Forward I went, up hill and down dale. Night now set in. I passed
a grove of trees and presently came to a collection of small houses
at the bottom of a little hollow. Hearing a step near me I stopped
and said in Welsh: "How far to Merthyr Tydvil?"
"Dim Cumrag, sir!" said a voice, seemingly that of a man.
