*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 64132 ***

Transcribed from the 1834 Whittaker & Co. edition by David Price.

                       [Picture: The Menai Bridge]





                                   THE
                            CAMBRIAN TOURIST,


                                   OR,

                          POST-CHAISE COMPANION

                                 THROUGH

                                  WALES;

                    CONTAINING CURSORY SKETCHES OF THE

                            WELSH TERRITORIES,

                                   AND

             A DESCRIPTION OF THE MANNERS, CUSTOMS, AND GAMES
                             OF THE NATIVES.

                                * * * * *

                            _EIGHTH EDITION_.

                                * * * * *

             THE WHOLE CORRECTED, AND CONSIDERABLY ENLARGED.

                                * * * * *

                                 LONDON:
                       PRINTED FOR WHITTAKER & CO.

                             AVE MARIA LANE.

                                * * * * *

                                  1834.




ACCOUNT OF THE WELSH LANGUAGE.


_The force of the Letters—List of Primitive Words—Character of the
Language and of the Poetry_.

It is supposed that there were anciently, in the Welsh or British
Language, {0} no less than thirty-six letters, sixteen of which were
radicals, that expressed the primary sounds; and the rest, modulations or
dependents on them.  For each of these, it is probable that there was
formerly a simple appropriate character; but, since the invention of
printing, and the introduction of Roman letters, it has been necessary,
for want of a sufficient variety of cast for the purpose, to adopt two,
and in one instance even three, of those letters, to express one sound or
character, by which much of the simplicity and beauty of the proper
alphabet has been lost.

The present printed books contain only twenty-seven characters: A, B, C,
Ch, D, Dd, E, F, Ff, G, Ng, H, I, L, Ll, M, N, O, P, Ph, R, S, T, Th, U,
W, and Y; having neither J, K, X, nor Z.  C answers the purpose of K,
when joined with W or Q; and when placed with S, of X.  It is said that Z
is used in the Armorican language, which is a dialect of this; but the
Welsh disown it.

No letter has any variation of sound, except the accented vowels, â, ê,
î, ô, û, ŵ, ŷ, which are lengthened, or otherwise, according to the power
of the accent, and all are pronounced, as there are no mutes.

A has the same sound as the English open _a_ in the word _bard_.

C is always hard as _k_.

Ch, which is accounted but as one consonant, is a guttural, as _Chi_ in
Greek, or _ch_, _Cheth_, in Hebrew.

Dd is an aspirated _d_, and has the sound of _th_ in the words _this_,
_that_.  _Dda_, good, is pronounced _Tha_.

F has the sound of an English _v_.

I is sounded as in the Italian, or like our _ee_ in _been_; thus _cîl_, a
retreat, is pronounced _keel_.

Ll is an aspirated _l_, and has much the sound of _thl_.  _Llangollen_ is
pronounced _Thlangothlen_.

R, as in the Greek language, is always aspirated at the beginning of a
word.

U sounds like the _i_ in _limb_, _him_, &c.

W is a vowel, and has the power of _oo_ in _soon_.

Y is in some words pronounced like _i_ in _third_; in others like _o_ in
_honey_: and again, in others as the _u_ in _mud_, _must_, &c.

V is sometimes used instead of _f_.  B and P, C and G, and U and Y, are
used promiscuously, as were formerly V and M.

                                * * * * *

The following is a list of primitive words, which, as they very commonly
occur in the names of places, &c. the tourist may find them of use.

_Aber_, a confluence; the fall of one river into another or into the sea,
as _Aberdovey_, the conflux of the Dovey.

_Avon_, what flows; and from thence a stream or river.

_Allt_, a cliff; the steep of a hill.

_Ar_, upon; bordering or abutting upon.

_Bach_, and _Bychan_, little: these are of the masculine gender, and
_Vychan_ and _Vechan_ are feminine.

_Bôd_, a dwelling, residence, or station.

_Bryn_, a hill.

_Bwlch_, a gap or pass between rocks.

_Cader_, a keep, fortress, or strong hold.

_Caer_, a fort, or fortified place, generally constructed with stones and
mortar.

_Castell_, a castle.

_Coed_, a wood.

_Carnedd_, a heap of stones.

_Cefen_, a ridge; or high ground.

_Clawdd_, a ditch, dike, or trench; and sometimes a wall or fence.

_Clogwyn_, a precipice.

_Craig_, a rock: from this the English word _Crag_ is derived.

_Cwm_, a great hollow or glen; sometimes a valley.

_Dinas_, a fort, or fortified place, constructed in general with a
rampart of loose stones and earth without any cement.

_Dôl_, a meadow or dale in the bend of a river.

_Drws_, a door, pass, or opening.

_Dû_, black.

_Dyffryn_, a wide cultivated valley.

_Ffynnon_, a spring, well, or source.

_Garth_, a mountain that bends round, or that incloses.

_Glan_, a bank or shore.

_Glyn_, a deep vale, through which a river runs:—from hence was derived
our word _Glen_.

_Gwern_, a watery meadow.

_Gwydd_, a wood; woody or wild.

_Gwyn_, white.

_Goch_, or _Coch_, red.

_Llan_, a smooth plot; a place of meeting; the church, place, or village;
and figuratively the church.

_Llech_, a flat stone, or crag; a smooth cliff.

_Llwyn_, a grove or copse.

_Llyn_, a pool, pond, or mere.

_Maen_, a stone.

_Maes_, an open field.

_Mawr_, great:—_Vach_, little.

_Moel_, fair; bald; a smooth mountain.

_Morfa_, a marsh.

_Mynydd_, a mountain.

_Pant_, a narrow hollow, or ravine.

_Pen_, a head, top, or end.

_Plâs_, a hall, or mansion.

_Pont_, a bridge.

_Porth_, a port.

_Rhiw_, an ascent.

_Rhôs_, a moist plain, or meadow.

_Rhyd_, a ford.

_Sarn_, a causeway.

_Tal_, the front, head, or end.

_Traeth_, a sand on the sea-shore.

_Tref_, a township.

_Ty_, a house.

_Ynys_, an island.

The Welsh language is possessed of numerous beauties.  Its copiousness is
very great; and it has no rival in the variety of its synonymous forms of
expression, principally arising from the rich combinations of its verbs;
for every simple verb has about twenty modifications, by means of
qualifying prefixes; and in every form it may be conjugated, either by
inflexions, like the Latin, or by the auxiliaries, as in English.  It
rivals the Greek, in its aptitude to form the most beautiful derivatives,
as well as in the elegance, facility, and expressiveness of an infinite
variety of compounds.  The author of letters from Snowdon has justly
remarked, that it has the softness and harmony of the Italian, with the
majesty and expression of the Greek.  Of these I will give two singular
and striking instances, one of which is an _Englyn_, or epigram on the
silk-worm; composed entirely of vowels.

    O’i wiw y ŵi weu ê â, a’i weuau
    O’i ŵyau y weua;
    E’ weua ei ŵe aia’,
    A’i weuau yw ieuau iâ.

    “I perish by my art; dig mine own grave:
    I spin my thread of life; my death I weave.”

The other a distich on thunder, the grandeur of which is scarcely to be
surpassed in any language.

    Tân a dŵr yn ymwriaw,
    Yw’r taranau dreigiau draw.

    “The roaring thunder, dreadful in its ire,
    Its water warring with aërial fire.”

The metre of the Welsh poetry is very artificial and alliterative,
possessing such peculiar ingenuity in the selection and arrangement of
words, as to produce a rhythmical concatenation of sounds in every verse.
The old British language abounded with consonants, and was formed of
monosyllables, which are incompatible with quantity; and the bards could
reduce it to concord by no other means than by placing at such intervals
its harsher consonants, so intermixing them with vowels, and so adapting,
repeating, and dividing the several sounds, as to produce an agreeable
effect from their structure.  Hence the laws of poetical composition in
this language are so strict and rigorous, that were it not for a
particular aptitude that it has for that kind of alliterative melody,
which is as essential as harmony in music, and which constitutes the
great beauty of its poetry, the genius of the bard must have been greatly
cramped.  To the ears of the natives, the Welsh metre is extremely
pleasing, and does not subject the bard to more restraint than the
different sorts of feet occasioned to the Greek and Roman poets.  From
the reign of Llywelyn to that of Elizabeth, the laws of alliteration were
prescribed, and observed with such scrupulous exactness, that a line not
perfectly alliterative was condemned as much by the Welsh grammarians, as
a false quantity was by the Greeks and Romans.

                      [Picture: Map of South Wales]




THE
CAMBRIAN TOURIST.


    These are the haunts of Meditation, these
    The scenes where ancient bards th’ inspiring breath
    Ecstatic felt.

                                                                  THOMSON.

As a centrical situation from which to undertake a Tour to either North
or South Wales, and to which conveyances are now established from all
parts of England and Scotland, I fixed on Oxford.  And should the
Tourist’s undertaking be commenced early in the season, and his time to
enjoy it be ample, he will have the opportunity of viewing this seat of
learning and nursery of the arts to advantage; the elegant piles of
building which Oxford exhibits, the stores of learned wealth which it
possesses, and the beautiful paintings which adorn its halls and
colleges, are so cheaply and so fully described in the Oxford Guides,
that to attempt to do it in this work would be superfluous, if not
ridiculous: still I may be excused for pointing out to those whose period
of stay may be limited, the objects more particularly worthy their
attention.  The three churches generally viewed are St. Mary’s, All
Saints, and St. Peter’s in the East.  St. Mary’s is the church used by
the University on Sundays and holidays: All Saints is a beautiful modern
structure, in the High-street: St. Peter’s in the East is very ancient;
it was formerly the University Church, and is now, during Lent, attended
by the members of it for afternoon service.

The Bodleian or University Library, one of the largest in Europe, as well
as the Picture Gallery, are to be seen in summer, from eight to two
o’clock, and from three to five; in the winter only till three in the
afternoon.  The Arundel marbles are placed in a large room on the north
side of the Schools.  The Theatre, in which are held the Public Acts,
called the Comitia and Encænia, and Lord Crewe’s annual commemoration, in
June or July, of the benefactors to the University, when the prizes
adjudged to particular performances are publicly recited, is a superb
edifice, and was built by Sir Christopher Wren, at the expense of
Archbishop Sheldon: it cost 16,000_l._; its roof has been greatly
admired.  Near this, on the west, stands the Ashmolean Museum of natural
curiosities, coins, &c. &c. and on the other side of the Theatre, the
Clarendon Printing-house.  Southward of the Schools stands in a fine area
the celebrated Radcliffe Library, a noble building with a handsome dome.

St. Mary Magdalen College at the east end of the city, near the river
Cherwell, is particularly worthy of attention, were it only to see the
picture of our Saviour bearing his cross; supposed to be painted by
Guido.  Such is the awful solemnity of the place, and the impressive
beauty of this painting, as well as of the windows, particularly of that
representing the last judgment, that none can be better calculated to
give a favourable bias to the mind of youth; for should religion waver in
the mind, the sweet benignity of Him who died to save mankind

    Shall on the heart impress such grateful love,
    That Atheist ne’er can shake, or Deist move.

The Cloister of this College, which remains in its primitive state, is
the most venerable of the University; the interior is ornamented with
curious hieroglyphics, the key to which is very fully given in the Oxford
Guide, from an ancient manuscript in the College.

Passing by numerous other Colleges and Halls, all interesting, if the
time and inclination of the Tourist permit him to visit them, I shall
proceed to Christ Church, which merits particular attention.  This
College consists of four courts: 1. The great Quadrangle; 2. Peckwater
square; 3. Canterbury court; 4. The Chaplain’s court; and some other
buildings.  The noble west front is 382 feet in length.  Over the great
gate in the middle of this front is a beautiful tower, designed by Sir
Christopher Wren, erected by Dr. Fell, in which is hung the great bell,
called Tom, the weight of which is eight tons and a half: on the sound of
this bell, the scholars of the University are to retire to their
respective Colleges.

The great quadrangle is 264 by 261 feet in the clear.  The Hall takes up
more than half the south side: we ascend to it by a spacious and stately
staircase of stone, the roof of which, supported by a single pillar, is
beautiful.  The staircase, lobby, and entrance into the hall, have been
altered under the direction of Mr. Wyatt.  The Hall is by far the most
magnificent room of the kind in Oxford.  There are near 300 compartments
in the cornice, which are embellished with as many coats of arms, carved
and blazoned in their proper colours.  At the upper end of the hall the
beautiful gothic window merits attention.—For the long list of portraits
of eminent persons that adorn the walls, _vide_ Oxford Guide.

Christ Church, which is the cathedral of the diocese, formerly belonged
to St. Frideswide’s Monastery; for the roof of the choir, which is of
beautiful stone-work, it was indebted to Cardinal Wolsey.

The east window was painted by Mr. Price, senior, of London, from a
design by Sir James Thornhill.  The window at the north corner of the
west end is curiously painted, representing St. Peter delivered out of
prison by the angel.  It was executed by Oliver, in his eighteenth year.
The fine ring of ten bells in the steeple, as well as Tom before
described, were brought from Oseney Abbey.  Choral service is performed
every day at ten and five; except on Sundays and holidays, when it is at
eight in the morning.

Three sides of Peckwater court are uniform, designed by Dr. Aldrich.  On
the fourth side is the Library, 141 feet long, built in the Corinthian
order.  In the lower apartments to the right and left are deposited the
celebrated collection of pictures, given to the College by Gen. Guise.
Amongst these is the celebrated performance of Annibal Caracci,
representing his family in a butcher’s shop.  St. Francis in a vision
supported by angels, by ditto.  A Medusa’s head, by Rubens.  Two
Nativities, by Titian.  A Nativity, by Raphael.  The flight into Egypt,
by Guido Rini.  Two half-lengths of women, by Dominichino.  Jesus and
Saint John embracing, by Raphael, &c. &c.

For a farther account of the various beauties of Oxford, I must again
recommend the Tourist to refer to the Oxford Guide, as well as for
information with respect to Heythrop, the seat of the Earl of Shrewsbury,
17 miles N. of Oxford; Ditchley, the seat of the Right Honourable Lord
Dillon, about four miles and a half from Heythrop; and Nuneham Courtney,
the seat of the late Earl Harcourt, which affords the richest treat to
the admirers of fine paintings that the country affords.

But if a soldier’s ardour warms his soul, and he would fain be led to
deeds of arms, pursue the road to honour, and seek the pinnacle of fame,
to Blenheim’s towers let him turn his steps; and let the gentle
Rosamond’s hard fate midst Woodstock’s bowers beguile him of a sigh; for
love and war should still go hand in hand.  Here well-earned honours have
been well repaid; and great as Marlborough’s noble deeds in arms shall
shine in the historic page, still shall a sovereign’s and a nation’s
gratitude outvie the hero’s deeds.

Blenheim, the princely residence of his grace the Duke of Marlborough, is
situated about eight miles from Oxford, to the west of Woodstock, from
which town you enter the Park by a spacious portal of the Corinthian
order.  The noble view of the house of Blenheim, the extent of the park,
the lake, valley, and richly varied scenery, are from hence highly
impressive.  The architecture of this noble pile of building, the
interior finish and display of the arts, increase rather than diminish
the first impression.  The circumference of the park is about eleven
miles: the gardens are tastefully displayed, owing much to nature, whose
beauties are here happily blended with art.

The distance from Woodstock to Witney is eight miles and three quarters,
by a turnpike road; thence to Burford, seven miles and a quarter;
Northleach, nine miles; Cheltenham, twelve miles and three quarters.



CHELTENHAM.


’Twas from hence with a friend, an equal admirer of Nature’s landscapes,
and attached to pedestrian independence, that a tourist resolved to visit
the wild and impressive scenery of the Cambrian mountains.  The outlines
of their route being arranged, they sallied forth in the month of July
from this place so much resorted to, and celebrated for its mineral
waters.  Since it has become a place of fashion, the lodging-houses have
been considerably improved, and rendered comfortable for the company, who
make this place their residence.  The season usually commences about May,
and frequently continues till the beginning of November.  The majority of
the company who frequent Cheltenham resort here not so much for the
purpose of water-drinking, as to enjoy the delightful walks and rides,
and partake of the sociability of the neighbourhood.

The Walk at the Pump-room, well planned, and kept in excellent order, is
planted on each side with limes; at the end is a small square, where the
pump is situate, with a room on the left for the accommodation of the
company to promenade, measuring sixty-six feet by twenty-three: on the
opposite side a reading-room, with a billiard-table over: and a house,
the residence of the attendant at the Spa: beyond that is a similar walk
which leads to another serpentine walk; from the end of this the spire of
Cheltenham church forms a beautiful object.  Near these walks stands, on
an eminence, the seat of the Earl of Fauconberg; which was the royal
residence during their Majesties’ stay from July 12 to August 16, 1788.

In respect to the Rides, Cleave Hill, Dowdeswell, &c.  Tewkesbury and
Glocester are most admired.

Speaking of the history of the place, we find Cheltenham was a town in
the reign of King William the Conqueror; Edward likewise is supposed to
have marched through it, before he encamped his army on the field of
Tewkesbury; previous to the battle of the houses of York and Lancaster.

Three days may be passed very pleasantly at this place, in viewing the
various improvements that have been made in the last twenty-five years,
tending both to increase the health and pleasure of its numerous and
respectable visitors: for these improvements the town is greatly indebted
to the exertions of Messrs. Moreau, King, and Fotheringham, the masters
of the ceremonies.  Duty with such men scarcely required the additional
stimulus of interest to render it efficacious; but with so powerful an
auxiliary it was irresistible: thousands have been expended after
thousands; public spirit was roused, and competition excited.  The
public, as well as Messrs. Thompson, Skillicorne, Capstack, Smith,
Barrett, Watson and Co., and all others who have spiritedly adventured
their property, will, I hope, derive mutual advantage, if not checked by
the high charges of some of the principal inns, and the enormous
establishments of the overbearing, monopolizing barrack lodging-houses,
apparently better calculated for workhouses or houses of correction, than
places of residence for valetudinarians.

The wells and baths are numerous, and calculated, under proper medical
superintendence, for all chronic disorders and constitutions; but they
are not to be trifled with: professional advice, for their proper use, is
absolutely necessary.

Of the efficacy of the water, to which this town is indebted for its
present celebrity, I refer my readers to a Treatise published by Dr.
Fothergill, of Bath.

The church is a respectable old building, by far too crowded and
encumbered with galleries, and what are intended as accommodations for a
large congregation, to allow all parties to participate in and profit by
the discourses there delivered.

The rooms and public receptacles for company, it should be the business
of some party to see closed, at all events on Sunday, and particularly on
Sunday morning, against those errant gamblers, that will eventually be
the bane of Cheltenham.

Libraries and Banks are numerous, as are conveyances to London through
Oxford, and to Bristol through Gloucester: here likewise are conveyances
to Hereford, Worcester, Birmingham, &c., and by that route to North
Wales; but this is not to be depended upon: but to South Wales, through
Gloucester and Hereford, the conveyance by coach and waggon for
passengers or baggage is ready and convenient.

For further particulars relative to this splendid modern establishment,
for such Cheltenham certainly may with propriety be designated, I must
refer the reader to the Cheltenham Guide; the information derived from
which will amply repay him for its trifling cost.  From hence to
Gloucester, eight miles one furlong, the road is excellent; and if time
allows, Tewkesbury is worthy of a visit, being only nine miles from
Cheltenham, and ten miles and a half from Gloucester.

Its ancient abbey is a venerable building, founded in 715, by two
brothers, Odo and Dodo, who endowed it with the manor of Stanway in
Gloucestershire, &c. &c. sufficient to maintain a prior and four monks of
the order of Benedictines: this priory was afterwards, about the year
980, subjected to the priory of Cranbourne, in Dorsetshire, but being
subsequently rebuilt in 1102, by Robert Fitz-Hamon, and its endowments
greatly enlarged, Girald, the Abbot of Cranbourne, on account of the
fruitfulness of the soil, and superiority of its situation, removed his
establishment to it, leaving only a prior and two monks at Cranbourne.
From this period it appears to have risen in consequence as a town.

The ashes of many noble characters are here deposited; and amongst the
rest, amidst the mingled heap of slain and murdered at and after the
battle of Tewkesbury, those of the accomplished and lamented Edward,
Prince of Wales, son of King Henry the Sixth; Edmund, Duke of Somerset;
his brother John de Somerset, the Earl of Devonshire; Lord Wenlock,
Master of the Horse to the Prince, with numerous others.  Here likewise
rest in peace, where all animosities are forgotten, the remains of
_false_, _fleeting_, _perjured Clarence_; as also those of Isabel his
wife, who was buried with great pomp and solemnity.

Further particulars of this ancient town the reader will obtain by
reference to a small but interesting historical work, on the Antiquities
of Tewkesbury, by W. Dyde of that place; who, after giving a very full
and explicit account of the contest betwixt the houses of York and
Lancaster, concludes by saying, “The local memorials of this very
decisive battle are but few.  The principal scenes of the action are the
meadow, which has received the appellation of Bloody Meadow, and the
Vineyard.  The former lies between two gently descending banks, about
half a mile south-west of the town, and was the spot where the slaughter
was the greatest.  The latter was the place where Queen Margaret lay, and
where some intrenchments are still to be traced.”

Stebbing says, “to the monastery and convent of Tewkesbury, King Henry
the Seventh granted the parochial church of Towton to pray for the soul
of Edmund, Duke of Somerset, his brother John, and others, who lost their
lives in the quarrel of the house of Lancaster.”

The entrance to Tewkesbury from Worcester, or Hereford and Malvern, after
a heavy fall of rain, presents to the eye the largest moveable body of
inland water I have witnessed in England; the junction of the Severn, and
the Warwickshire Avon, each overflowing their banks, rushing down two
beautiful vales to join their currents opposite the town, and augmenting
their volume by _the_ two tributary streams of the Carron and the
Swilgate, impress you with the idea of the vicinity of the sea, and the
power of the tide, to collect so large a body of that fluid element in
such overpowering currents.  The drive or ride from Tewkesbury to Upton,
and from thence to Malvern hills, is beautiful; indeed, not one inch of
this delightful country should be missed or slighted, by travelling over
it in the dark or in bad weather: the view from Malvern hills over
Worcester, and the rich vale through which the Severn’s current rolls, is
perhaps as fine a one as the eye of the painter could wish to be indulged
with.  Winding round the Malvern hills by a good turnpike road, you gain
the Herefordshire view, with the mountains of Wales in the back ground,
having Ross on the left, and Bromyard, Leominster, and Salop on the
right; descending the hill, you soon reach Ledbury, scarcely remarkable
for any thing but the antiquity of its houses, and the fine quality of
the cider and perry made in its vicinity.  Malvern is about an equal
distance from Ledbury and Upton, and those places are nearly equi-distant
from



GLOUCESTER.


The pin manufactory was established here by John Tisley, in the year
1626, and the business is now become so extensive that the returns from
London alone are estimated at near twenty thousand pounds per annum.
Before the introduction of pins into England, anno 1548, skewers of
brass, silver, and gold, and likewise thorns curiously scraped, called by
the Welch women pindraen, were used.  Though the pins themselves are
apparently simple, yet their manufacture is not a little curious and
complex.  The wire in its most rough state is brought from a wire company
in the neighbourhood of Bristol: till the year 1563 English iron wire was
drawn out by manual strength.  The first operation attending this curious
process is the fixing the circular roll of wire to the circumference of a
wheel, which in its rotation throwing the wire against a board, with
great violence, takes off the black external coat: vitriol is next
applied to bring the brass to its common colour.  The brass wire being
too thick for the purpose of being cut into pins, is reduced to any
dimension the workman pleases, by forcibly drawing it through an orifice
in a steel plate, of a similar diameter.  The wire being thus reduced to
its proper dimensions, is next straightened: it is then cut into portions
of six inches in length, and afterwards to the size of the pin, and each
piece respectively sharpened on a grinding-stone, turned by a wheel.  We
now come to a distinct branch of the manufactory; the forming the heads,
or, as the workmen term it, head spinning: this is accomplished by means
of a spinning-wheel, which, with astonishing rapidity, winds the wire
round a small rod: this, when drawn out, leaves a hollow tube between the
circumvolutions: every two circumvolutions, or turns, being cut with
shears, form one head.  The heads thus formed are distributed to
children, who, with great dexterity, by the assistance of an anvil, or
hammer, worked by the foot, fix the point and the head together.  The
pins, thus formed, are boiled in a copper, containing a solution of
block-tin pulverized, and the lees of port; and by this last process it
changes its yellow brassy colour, and assumes the appearance of silver or
tin.  The labourers are all paid according to the weight of their work.

Near Gloucester, at the small island of Alney, formed by the river Severn
dividing itself into two branches, historians relate that Canute and
Edmund, after many bloody engagements in Essex, determined to prevent a
farther effusion of blood by a single combat.  Neither, however, as the
story relates, obtaining a victory, peace was concluded, and the kingdom
divided between them.  We paid, however, little regard to the supposed
place of this contest, as it was not for us puisne antiquarians to
discuss points on which the greatest historians had so materially
differed.

The roads round Gloucester have been greatly improved of late years, more
particularly the one to Ross and Hereford, which was hilly, rocky, and
generally dangerous: their texture and surface are now totally changed,
and, winding the hills, the gradual ascent removes both danger and
difficulty; the expense must have been enormous, and the traveller pays
proportionably in turnpike tolls; they are, generally speaking, round
Gloucester and Hereford, the highest in England.  Nothing can surpass the
excellence of the road from Gloucester to Bristol, to which conveyances
are constantly going; and to such parties as have not visited that eager
bustling mart of trade, two or three days may be afforded with a
certainty of meeting with the most ample return for the trouble and
expense bestowed.  The Church of St. Mary Redcliff, which is both ancient
and beautiful; the Abbey Church or cathedral: the docks; the charities,
and particularly that for teaching the blind to work; the hot wells at
Clifton; St. Vincent’s rocks, and the diminished vessels gliding on the
Avon; the beautiful views, mansions, villas, and pleasure grounds in
every direction in its vicinity, evincing at once the taste and opulence
of its merchants and citizens, but particularly those going to and
returning from King’s Weston, the view of Lord de Clifford’s mansion, and
the varied prospects it commands, as well as those from the park and
plantations, which are open to the public, constantly varying the scenery
on the Avon, Kingroad, and the distant Cambrian Alps, afforded pleasure
so exquisite to my romantic fancy, that for ten times the labour and
expense bestowed, I would not have debarred myself of them.  Here most
happily are blended commercial riches and the life of trade with all that
nature’s bounty can bestow to please the fancy or delight the sight.

The antiquity of Bristol is recorded by Gildas, who has set it down as
one of the principal fortified cities in Britain, when the Romans
abandoned the island in the year 430.  But little mention is made of it
again in history till the year 1063, when Harold, the son of Earl Godwin,
embarked from Bristol with an army to wreak his vengeance on Griffith,
King of Wales, who had committed divers aggressions.  After sailing along
the coast and landing his men at various points, he reduced the country
to yield obedience to King Edward, and having compelled the Welsh to cut
off the head of their king and give him hostages for their fidelity, he
returned again to England.

The Castle of Bristol was formerly of great extent and strength, and is
repeatedly mentioned by historians for the gallant defences it has made,
and the noble prisoners it has held in safe custody; but it was not till
the time of Charles the First that it belonged to the city, when being
found to be a harbour and receptacle for rogues and vagabonds, it was
first added to the jurisdiction of the county of the city of Bristol, and
afterwards sold to the mayor and burgesses for 959_l._, to be held under
the manor of East Greenwich in Kent, at the yearly fee-farm rent of
40_l._

Both Henry the Second and Henry the Third, during their minorities, were
placed at Bristol as a place of security, at which they might receive
their education.  It was here, in the year 1211, that the following
infamous act of tyrannic cruelty was exercised by King John.  That
monarch having laid a heavy tax upon all the Jews throughout his
dominions, one of that race, named Abraham, having refused to pay the
tax, was fined in the sum of ten thousand marks; this the obstinate Jew
likewise refused to pay, which so much exasperated the King, that he
commanded one of his teeth to be drawn every day till the sum was paid;
the unfortunate Jew had seven of them taken out of his head, and then
submitted to the payment, rather than lose his last tooth, he having but
one left.

Bristol sends two members to Parliament; the first regular summons by
writ was issued by King Edward the First, directing that two proper
persons should be sent as its representatives to the Parliament at
Shrewsbury.

“King Henry the Seventh visited Bristol in 1490, and held his court in
St. Augustine’s Back, when the citizens, willing to shew the King all the
respect they could during his residence, arrayed themselves in their best
clothes; the King thinking some of their wives rather too well dressed
for their station, ordered that every citizen who was worth 20_l._ in
goods, should pay twenty shillings, for that their wives went so
sumptuously apparelled.”

The present Cathedral was the collegiate church of the monastery of St.
Augustine, originally founded by King Henry the Second, and Robert
Fitzharding, father of Maurice, the first of the Berkeley family.  At the
suppression of the monasteries by king Henry the Eighth, after that of
St. Augustine had been destroyed, with the exception of the gate, and the
west end of the collegiate church had begun to share the same fate, the
King changed his mind, and resolved upon erecting it into a bishopric,
directing the church to be repaired, and thenceforth termed the cathedral
church of the holy and undivided Trinity, appointing Paul Bush, rector of
Winterborn, to be the first Bishop, appropriating the revenue of the
suppressed monastery, amounting to 765_l._ 15_s._ 3_d._ per annum, partly
to the bishop and partly to the chapter; consisting of a Dean and six
Prebendaries.  He likewise took the county of Dorset from the see of
Salisbury, transferring it to that of Bristol.

The interior of the Cathedral, though not to be named with those of
Gloucester and Worcester, is still worthy of attention; particularly its
vaulted roof, those of the side aisles, and an emblematic picture of the
Holy Trinity, by Vansomers, over the altar.  The windows of the side
aisles, which are of enamelled glass, are said to have been the gift of
Nell Gwynn.

On the south-west of the cathedral are the cloisters; and at the
south-east corner of the cloisters is the bishop’s palace, which was in
great part rebuilt in 1744, when the following extraordinary circumstance
happened.  “A parcel of plate, supposed to have been hidden during the
time of the civil wars, fell through the floor in the corner of one of
the rooms; this accident occasioned the floor to be taken up, when, to
the surprise of those persons present, a dungeon underneath was
discovered, in which were found many human bones, and instruments of iron
for torture; at the same time was laid open a private passage to this
dungeon, which passage was part of the original edifice; it was an arched
way only large enough for one person to pass, and was made within the
wall; one end led to the dungeon, and the other end to an apartment of
the house, which by appearance had been made use of for a court of
judgment.  Both the entrances of this mural passage were walled up, and
so concealed, that no one could suspect the wall to be hollow.”

St. Mary Redcliff Church, which is supposed to be one of the most
beautiful gothic structures for a parish church in England, next merits
attention.  The present edifice was erected by William Canning, an
eminent merchant of Bristol, about the year 1456; the foundation having
been commenced by his grandfather of the same name, on the site of the
former church, built by Simon de Burton, in the year 1294.  Canning
having been rendered unhappy by the death of his wife, and being pressed
by the King to a second marriage, he took holy orders to avoid an act so
repugnant to his feelings: he was afterwards Dean of Westbury, to which
he was likewise a great benefactor.  He died in 1474, and was buried in
the south end of the aisle of this church, in which are two monuments
erected to his memory; in the one he is represented in his magisterial
robes (he having been five times Mayor of Bristol), with his lady by his
side, with a long inscription on two tables.  In the other monument he is
habited as a priest.

The roof, which is of stone, displaying many curious devices, with much
good workmanship, and the lofty pillars which support it, are beautiful;
the interior, which consists of a middle and two side aisles, has a light
and highly pleasing effect, and is generally much admired.  The altar is
very elegant and richly decorated, and over it are three capital
paintings by Hogarth.  The organ, which is of great size and compass,
contains upwards of one thousand speaking pipes, and for richness of tone
is scarcely to be equalled.  It was in a room over the north porch
entrance, in an old chest, that Chatterton, then a youth of seventeen,
gave out that he found the poetical manuscripts, ascribed to Rowley and
others, and said to have been written in the fifteenth century.
Chatterton’s father was sexton of St. Mary’s Redcliff and master of a
charity school in Pile-street, in which school, under a Mr. Love, who
succeeded his father, and at the Colston Blue-coat school, he received
his education.

The Exchange in Corn-street is a noble building of free-stone highly
finished; it cost upwards of 50,000_l._  The principal front is 110 feet;
it is of the Corinthian order, upon a rustic basement.  Next to the
Exchange stands the Post-office, and higher up, on the opposite side of
the street, the Council-house, where the mayor or some other magistrate
sits daily to administer justice, from twelve till two o’clock.

The charities of this city are numerous and extensive; the Infirmary is a
noble building, situate in Earl-street, St. James’s; it is conducted on
the most liberal plan.

The port of Bristol has of late years been greatly enlarged and improved,
principally on a plan suggested by the Rev. William Milton, Rector of
Heckfield, Hants; an excellent engineer, and a man of most extensive
mechanical abilities, whose only reward for so great a service rendered
to this wealthy port was a present of a piece of plate; had he rendered
as great a service to the merchants and corporation of Liverpool, he
would most likely have obtained a handsome independence for life; for
although the charities of Bristol speak highly in its favour, still its
high spirit, its hospitality, or its generosity, are not quite so
proverbial as those of Liverpool.

The Hot-well is distant about a mile and a half to the west of Bristol,
in the parish of Clifton: the water is too well known for its great
efficacy in pulmonary complaints, and cases of general debility, to
require any recapitulation of its virtues, in this slight sketch of the
Hot-well and Clifton.

As a place of fashionable resort, not only for invalids, but for
pleasure, its beautiful situation, both for walks and rides, the
gentility of the company that frequent it, the easy and well regulated
expense with which persons may with comfort and respectability reside
here, must always ensure it an overflow of company in the season.  The
Avon, below St. Vincent’s rocks, is but little wider than it is at
Bristol; but as the spring tides rise from 30 to 36 feet, the heaviest
ships can navigate it at such times.

St. Vincent’s rocks, overhanging the Avon, afford to the pedestrian, and
particularly to the botanist, an infinity of amusement; a great portion
of the plants, if not peculiar to this spot, are but rarely to be met
with elsewhere.

These rocks are chiefly composed of a species of chocolate-coloured
marble, bearing a good polish; it is worked into chimney-pieces, &c.,
with good effect, the refuse burning into a strong and beautiful white
lime.  The reverberation of sound occasioned by the miners blasting these
rocks, and the dreadful crash of the masses thus hurled from their native
beds down the craggy precipices is grand and terrific; it is in the
fissures of the rocks thus opened that those beautiful chrystals, called
Bristol stones, are found.



CLIFTON


is one of the most charming villages in England.  On every side the views
are beautiful; and although its population is great, still it has not
lost its rural appearance.  From the salubrity of the air, numerous
respectable families have taken up their residence in the village and its
vicinity; but these elegant mansions being surrounded by their gardens
and shrubberies, they have prevented the ground from being too much
covered with buildings.



KINGSWESTON,


the seat of Lord de Clifford, is about four miles north-west of Bristol.
It is a noble mansion, built by Sir John Vanbrugh, somewhat in his usual
style; but the situation according with the style better than usually
fell to the lot of that architect, it has a grand and noble effect.  The
collection of paintings here are by esteemed masters, and very fine; the
gardens, hot-houses, &c. are kept up in very great style.  The park,
which is richly wooded and beautifully diversified, offers a rich treat
to the painter; the varied prospects obtained at every turn and opening
of its numerous walks and vistas are as rich and extensive as nature in
this climate can afford.  The whole, under very trifling restrictions,
are most kindly and liberally left open by his Lordship, for the public
to enjoy.  Kingsweston inn, just above the park, is a comfortable house,
delightfully situated.

To the west of Kingsweston, on a hill called Penpold, is a
pleasure-house: from this hill, which is of great height, the most
beautiful prospects are to be enjoyed.  You look down on that fine sheet
of water, Kingroad and the Severn Sea; commanding alternately views of
Somersetshire, Glamorganshire, and Monmouthshire, with Wales in the back
ground; Gloucestershire and Wiltshire: this with the bustle of the
shipping in the nearer sea view, so engage the attention, that time flies
unheeded by.

From hence proceed to Shirehampton, a pleasing village, leading to a good
inn, called Lamplighters’ hall, a place of considerable resort, during
the summer months, to witness the busy scene at the mouth of the Avon: it
is situated close to high water-mark, on the bank of the river, opposite
to Pill or Crockern Pill, where is a Custom-house, at which all vessels
leaving the port of Bristol are obliged to take their last clearance in
going out, and from which they are furnished with pilots inwards.  The
ride from hence, when the tides are not too high, over turf to the mouth
of the Avon, is very fine.  The house is built purposely to enjoy the
busy scene which the river and Kingroad here present; and its
accommodations are remarkably good, and the charges reasonable.

Frenchhay, in Gloucestershire, is about four miles north-east of Bristol;
the drive this way is beautiful, from the numerous noblemen and
gentlemens’ seats and highly cultivated grounds, which occupy both sides
of the road.  It was here, during the war, that the great depôt of French
prisoners was established.

At the east end of the common is a remarkable lusus naturæ, which was
taken out of a stone quarry at Downend; its form is an entire perfect
muscle, consisting of the upper and under shell, which are closed
together; its weight is nearly two tons.

Bristol is but one stage from either the Old or New Passage; it is eleven
miles to the New, and nine to the Old.  The mail and most of the coaches
pass their passengers, &c. by the New Passage, as saving a stage on the
Milford road.  Chaises or horses are generally charged at the rate of
twelve miles to either.

At Aust (or the Old Passage) it is about two miles over to Beachley, in
the parish of Tidenham, Gloucestershire.  This is the direct way to
Chepstow, Newent, and all the forest of Dean, Herefordshire,
Worcestershire, and the upper part of Monmouthshire.

At the New Passage, it is about three miles over at high water to Port
Skewith, near St. Pierre in Monmouthshire.  When the wind is S.E. or
N.W., it is directly across the river, therefore you must be at the
passage where you intend to cross, an hour before high water, as they can
only go over then, and that but once, there being no passage during the
flood or ebb.

Should the traveller have before visited Bristol, or decline this
excursion, he will find the walk from Gloucester to



WESTBURY


is by no means uninteresting; the distance eight miles and three
quarters, through Highnam and Minsterworth; the country is studded with
half-seen villas, and animated with churches, whilst the retrospect
commands a fine view of Robin Hood’s hill, with the dark tower of
Gloucester cathedral, just rising in the perspective.

At Westbury is the seat of Maynard Colchester, Esq.  The church, with a
detached spire, stands close to the house.  Near this place mineralogists
will be highly gratified by visiting a cliff, called Garden, or Golden
Cliff; which is most beautifully encrusted with mundic and crystals.
This rock, standing close to the Severn, is only accessible at the reflux
of the tide: and when illuminated by the sun wears a most beautiful
appearance.

Between Westbury and Newnham, in an extremely delightful valley,
bordering on the forest of Dean, is situate



FLAXLEY ABBEY,


the seat of Sir Thomas Crawley Bovey.  This valley was formerly called
Castiard, or the Happy Valley; and a monastery for Cistercian monks was
founded here by Roger, the second Earl of Hereford, and the charter
confirmed by King Henry II.  The abbey was standing till the year 1777,
when part of it was unfortunately consumed by fire; since that a
considerable portion of building has been added, and it is become a very
desirable summer residence.  The views from the park, behind the house,
are very extensive, commanding the vale of Gloucester, and the river
Severn, gay with vessels; whilst the extensive forest of Dean, and
Flaxley Abbey, form nearer objects for admiration.  This wood abounds
with the most charming walks; and while it affords refreshing shelter
from a summer’s sun, admits partial views of the adjacent country.
Camden, in speaking of the forest of Dean, derives its name from Ardene,
a wood, in the Gaulic and British languages.  It lies between the two
rivers Severn and Wye, and contains thirty thousand acres.  The soil is
well adapted for the growth of oaks and forest timber; and the situation
particularly commodious for exporting it for ship-building, and other
purposes.  The immense quantities of wood annually felled for the use of
the navy have so thinned this forest of its timber, that it is now
preserved till a certain growth, by act of parliament.  Camden observes,
that the oak of this forest was so considerable, that the Spanish armada
had orders to destroy the timber of it in the year 1588.  It suffered
considerably in the great rebellion.

The iron manufactory has long been carried on in this forest; and to this
day immense beds of iron cinders are found, the reliques of the Romans.
These cinders are not half exhausted of their ore, and are consequently
worked over again: a proof that the Romans knew only the weak power of
the foot blast.  As we drew near



NEWNHAM


the Severn became more considerable.  The town, situated on the banks of
the river, and backed by the forest of Dean, is very ancient, and in the
year 1018, this manor was granted by King Canute to the Benedictine abbey
of Pershore, in Worcestershire. {25}  The churchyard affords a variety of
objects worthy the attention of the passing stranger, amongst which the
church of Westbury forms the most conspicuous feature in the landscape.
The view, previous to our descending the hill to



LIDNEY


is extensive and beautiful.  In this place iron-works are carried on by
Mr. Pitchcock.  About a mile from Lidney, the Old Passage,—King’s Road,
with the merchant ships lying off Bristol,—Gloucestershire and
Somersetshire hills, studded with gentlemen’s seats, churches, and
half-seen cottages, form a cheerful landscape.



CHEPSTOW.


The weather prevented our seeing the celebrated walks of Piercefield, but
we promised ourselves the pleasure of visiting them on our return down
the Wye.  The castle of Chepstow, called Cagwent, or Castell Gwent,
stands on a rock washed by the river Wye, near its influx into the
Severn.  Topographical writers differ in their accounts concerning the
antiquity of the castle, but it is generally supposed to have been built
at the same time with the town, appearing at that period to have been a
kind of citadel to Chepstow. {26}  The castle was formerly of great
extent, as, according to Leland’s account, the “waulles began at the end
of the great bridge over Wy,” yet, “in the castel ys one tower, as I have
heard say, by the name of Langine.”  Little now remains of its former
grandeur: but, impelled by an irresistible curiosity, we ascended the
decayed steps of the tower, from whence the eye traced with pleasure the
windings of the Wye, till it was at last lost in conjunction with the
Severn.  We examined the apartments in which Henry Marten, one of the
regicides, who sat to condemn King Charles I., was confined twenty years.

Grand views of the Bristol Channel still continued to form interesting
objects from the road; but about three miles from Chepstow, we turned
into some fields on the right, to examine the ivy-mantled walls of



CALDECOT CASTLE.


On our first entrance, we gazed with that rapt astonishment, which fears
to disturb, or be disturbed, by the mutual communication of thought.  Mr.
Warner, in his survey of this ruin, was much disappointed; but I cannot
help allowing, although the view from it was inferior to Chepstow, that
its antiquated walls wear a nobler appearance; and the gloom that reigns
around it forces a sigh, and evinces the transitory nature of sublunary
greatness.  The antiquity of the building is very obscure.  Passing
through the village of Caldecot, we soon entered



CAERWENT,


on the western side, through the broken fragments of its walls, of which
one immense mass has recently fallen.  This ancient town is now a
village, with a few scattered cottages, but was formerly celebrated,
under the auspices of Agricola, for its temples, theatre, porticoes, and
baths; few vestiges of its former splendour are now extant.  A few
fragments of loose stones only remain to point out its former extent.  In
an orchard, adjoining a farm-house belonging to Mr. Lewis, is the
beautiful tesselated Roman pavement, discovered in the year 1777.  The
tesseræ or dies, about an inch in breadth, and half in depth, are nearly
square, consisting of four colours, red, yellow, blue, and white, {27}
which are still in great preservation; the whole is surrounded with a
border, much resembling a Turkey carpet.  The daily depredations on these
curious remains of antiquity are greatly to be lamented.

In the road from Caerwent, amongst other objects for admiration, the
mansion of Sir Robert Salusbury, on the left, commanding an extensive
view, attracted our notice.  Passing through the neat village of
Christ-church, animated with white-washed cottages, and graced with its
simple church, which stands on an eminence, we left the turnpike-road at
the thirteenth mile-stone; and following a footpath through some fields,
near the banks of the Usk, soon entered the ancient city of Caerleon.



CAERLEON


has been celebrated in all ages of British History.  It was a Roman city
of great power, strength, and importance, under the name of _Isca
Silurum_, and their chief station in the country of the _Silures_; and
equally, and perhaps still more known, for having been King Arthur’s seat
of government: a prince, equally renowned in history, chivalry, and
poetry.  This city was formerly a metropolitan see, but Saint David, the
national saint of Wales, thinking the noisy intercourse of a populous
city, like Caerleon, ill adapted for contemplation, or the solitary cast
of his mind, removed it to Minevia, which from that period has been
called Ty Dewi by the Welch, and Saint David by the English. {28}  The
remains of its ancient grandeur are still discernible.  Whilst tracing
the extent of its amphitheatre, surrounded by a circular entrenchment, we
took a retrospect on the exertions of man, the fate of kingdoms, and of
rulers; and, marking the grand destruction of ages, it seemed to convince
us of the transientness of human worth and happiness!

Re-ascending Christ-church hill we had a fine view of the county of
Monmouth like a map beneath us.  Near



NEWPORT


a new stone bridge has been erected by contract for ten thousand one
hundred and sixty-five pounds, by Mr. Edwards, son to the Edwards who
built the famous Pont-y-pridd.  It consists of five arches.

The commerce and population of this town are greatly increased of late
years.  As a sea-port it is safe; its chief trade is in iron and coal.
The Monmouthshire Canal communicates here by a basin with the Usk river,
and by that means with the Bristol Channel; and as the Monmouthshire
Canal again communicates with the Brecon Canal and the Avon, Ebwy and
other rail roads, Newport becomes the grand depôt for the heavier
articles of trade of that part of the interior of South Wales.  The
Crumlin bridge branch is eleven miles five furlongs, its falls three
hundred and sixty-five feet.  Pontypool, eleven miles, falls four hundred
and forty-seven feet.  Brecknock, thirty-seven miles seven furlongs.

A circuitous, but more romantic route from Chepstow to Newport, is
re-crossing the Wye, passing over the forest of Dean, through Saint
Briaval’s to Monmouth.  The road is not bad, but narrow; if travelling
with a carriage, it will be necessary to be provided with a horn, which,
upon your sounding, if you find answered, you must wait till the party so
answering comes past.

The views to the right over the Severn and Gloucestershire are most rich
and extensive, and those from the summits of the overhanging rocks of the
Wye, awful and terrific: before you reach Monmouth the country becomes
thickly inhabited, which the beautiful situations it affords readily
accounts for; and from Monmouth to Ragland and Usk the same continues to
be the case.



RAGLAND CASTLE,


one of the finest ruins in Wales, (for although Monmouthshire is now an
English county, it formerly was Welch,) stands near the village of that
name: it may be pleasantly and leisurely viewed in the day, with Usk and
Caerleon, affording time to reach Newport.

The first view of it is considerably impeded by the surrounding trees,
but the closer inspection presents such a mass of ruin as well proves its
ancient strength and grandeur.  From the citadel, which lies to the south
of the main building, the communication was by a drawbridge over the
moat, by which it was surrounded; it was a hexagon, apparently five
stories high, and of much strength, with bastions.

Round the citadel were raised walks, and in the walls are small recesses.
A stone staircase still remains, leading to the top of one of the towers,
from which not only the ruins, but the adjacent country, are viewed to
much advantage.  The two courts of the castle both communicate with the
terrace.

The main entrance is magnificent, much overhung with ivy; the gothic
portal is defended by two massive towers, and the building being faced
with hewn free-stone, exhibits a less desolate aspect than it would
otherwise do.  The whole range of offices and apartments appears to have
been on a splendid scale, and the building shows various specimens of
architecture, from the time of Henry the Fifth to that of Charles the
First.

The large banqueting hall divides the two courts; it still retains the
arms of the Marquis of Worcester, with the motto “Mutare vel timere
sperno.”

During the civil wars, Henry, first Marquis of Worcester, several times
afforded a refuge to Charles the First, but at length, when that
monarch’s fortune was past retrieving, Ragland Castle, after having been
various times summoned by detachments of the Parliamentary forces, was
regularly invested and taken by Sir Thomas Fairfax; a window is still
shewn through which a girl in the garrison, by waving a handkerchief,
introduced his troops.  The aged marquis was sent prisoner to London,
where he died in the 85th year of his age, and his property having been
confiscated, and the castle dismantled, it became a prey to his own
tenantry, who pulled it down for the sake of the materials, but more
particularly for the staircases, of which they removed above twenty.

At the Restoration, this, with other estates, was restored to the family,
but in such a state of ruin, that being considered unworthy their
repairing, it was left as an object of pillage to the vicinity, which it
has but lately, since its ruins have become venerable, ceased from being.
It appertains to the noble house of Beaufort.

The library, which was here destroyed by the mad fanatic soldiery of
Cromwell, is greatly to be regretted, as it possessed Welch manuscripts
of great importance; the collection was very large, and the loss not to
be estimated, many being unique.

The domain appertaining to this princely residence was very extensive,
and well arranged, and in Ragland Church are still to be seen the
vestiges of splendid memorials erected for Marquises of Worcester, and
other noble personages.



USK, or CASTRUM ISCA,


which is the next place of note on the route, is believed to be the
Burrium of the Romans.  It was formerly a place of much note; its
situation is low, but capable of being rendered most beautiful, its
surrounding scenery holding forth the most tempting lures to improve
nature by art, at a trifling expense.

The Usk is here become a noble river, and its fish, particularly its
salmon, are held in the highest estimation.  Along the river is a
beautiful walk to the ruins of the castle, from which you gain a fine
view of the town, and the surrounding slopes and heights, and in few
places is to be seen so large a body of clear water, in so expanded and
rapid a stream.  At the time of our visit it was not the season for
fishing, but I must confess, I sighed to leave it behind me.  To the
fly-fisher few places hold forth such inducements to settle as Usk.  I
fancied myself in a Swiss valley where I could cultivate my vines, my
lavender, and my roses, supply my table with exquisite fish and game,
enjoy pure air, and a fine climate.

The best and pleasantest road to Caerleon is over the bridge to
Llanbaddock, three furlongs; by Llangibby Castle, and Llangibby, one mile
two furlongs; to Lanhenock, three miles; Caerleon, two miles fseven
furlongs; Newport, five miles.



CAERLEON


boasts numerous inducements to stay the progress of the antiquary; it is
by some called the Isca Augusta, or Isca Colonia of the Romans, and was a
principal garrison, being the head quarters or main station of the second
Augustan legion, having under it numerous other stations.

Mr. Cox states the shape of this ancient city to be an oblong square,
three sides straight, the fourth curved; the south angle is near the end
of the Round Table field, where the walls are nearly twelve feet thick;
the south-west side passes the amphitheatre parallel to the Usk; the
walls are again to be traced by the Broadway along the Benhouse field;
the west angle runs alongside the Malpas road; on this flank a gateway
leads to Goldcroft common; the north angle forms part of a stable in the
New Inn yard, is again visible in the Castle yard, and turns the east
angle near a rail-road by the Castle ditch; hence the line curves again,
touches on the foss of the Castle, passes through gardens, &c. and is
lost in a lane near the quay till it again becomes discernible near the
south angle.  The circumference of the walls, in which there appear to
have been four gates, one in the centre of each flank, was about 1800
feet.

It was a station of the Prætor, and its splendid palaces, its stately
edifices and gilded roofs, might, according to Giraldus Cambrensis’
exaggerated account, have vied with those of Rome itself; its baths, its
aqueducts, its stoves, and proofs of ancient grandeur, were even in his
time amply displayed in their ruins; numerous are the coins that have
been here collected, and the riches this spot has afforded to the
cabinets of the curious.

Between Caerleon and Newport is St. Julians, once the residence of Lord
Herbert of Cherbury: the walk to it in fine weather is pleasant, and
although now converted into a farmhouse, traces of its former
respectability are evident.  In a small barn near to it are likewise to
be seen the remains of St. Julian’s abbey.  According to some accounts,
such was the extent of Caerleon in the days of its grandeur, that it
extended as far as Christ Church and this place, and covered a tract of
country nine miles in circumference.

Ascending the Gam, the ships in the Bristol Channel, with the islands
Flat and Steep Holmes rising in the midst of the sea, and the shores of
Somerset and Devon, formed pleasing objects in the distant view, whilst
the mellow green of nearer woods and meadows, watered by the Usk, made a
combination of views gay and beautiful.

Newport Castle, standing on the bank of the river Usk, is a small
distance from the bridge: it evidently appears to have been once a place
of considerable extent, and built for the defence of the passage over the
river; three strong towers commanded the Usk, but towards the town, a
common wall, without any flanks, seems to have been its sole defence.
Some of the windows still remain, the relics of Gothic architecture, and
appear to have been elegantly decorated.  From the tower is a fine view
of the Usk.  Between Newport and



CARDIFF


we crossed the little stream of Ebwith, near the Park of Tredegar House,
belonging to Sir Charles Morgan.  The grounds are well planned, and
command the hills of Machen and Twynbarlwm, with the Church of Bassaleg
rising in the centre, on an eminence.  The whole valley, indeed, lies
prettily.  Passing through the villages of Pediston and Castletown, we
soon reached the bridge of two arches, over the river Romney, which
divides England from Wales.

The situation of Cardiff is on a low flat, near the mouth of the Taff,
over which is a bridge, built by Mr. Parry, in the year 1796: it consists
of three large and two smaller arches.  The tower of the Church is very
light, and of elegant workmanship; but there is nothing in the inside
worthy of notice.

The Castle derives its name from the river Taff, which washes its walls;
Caertaph signifying the town or castle upon Taff.  Robert Fitzham, on
having conquered Glamorganshire, divided the country into different
portions, among twelve Norman knights, as a reward for their service,
took for his own share the town of Cardiff, and erected, in the year
1110, this Castle, in which he generally resided, and held his court of
chancery and exchequer.  In the beginning of May, 1645, during the
troubles under King Charles I., it was in the possession of the
Royalists, but it was surrendered to the Parliament before August, 1646.

We entered the Castle by two strong gates, which still remain in great
preservation, but we were displeased with the modern architecture of the
new-built mansion; the neat shorn grass and the gravel walk were
circumstances that ill accorded with the mutilated walls of an ancient
ruin, which has braved the storms of so many centuries.  The circumstance
which tends to insure this castle a melancholy place in history, is the
unjust confinement of Robert, Duke of Normandy, brother to William Rufus,
and King Henry I.  The accounts, however, of his confinement have been
greatly exaggerated by historians; but a dark vaulted room beneath the
level of the ground, measuring nearly a square of fifteen feet and a
half, is still pointed out as the place of his confinement; a small
crevice in the top, about half a yard in length, and three inches wide,
was the only place to admit the air.  In this situation he died, after an
imprisonment of twenty-six years, and was buried in Gloucester Cathedral,
where his effigy, as large as life, carved in Irish oak, and painted, is
yet shown.

The Keep, which is still very perfect, of an octagon shape, stands on an
eminence in the centre of a large square.  Having walked round the
ramparts, which command extensive views of the adjacent country, we
visited the Castle itself, which has within these few years been
repaired, but still remains in an unfinished state.

In the dining-room are some portraits, in length, of the Windsor family:
the most striking are, Sir William, who first raised forces for Queen
Mary.  Sir Edward, who first entered the breach, at the taking of St.
Quintin, in Flanders, where the famous constable De Montmorency was taken
prisoner.

In the breakfast parlour is a family piece, consisting of seven figures:
it was painted in the year 1568.  Holbein, I rather imagine, was the
painter: it consists of two sisters playing at cards, and two brothers at
drafts, with Edward, Earl of Windsor, and his lady, looking on.  The
style is stiff, with ruffs, small black caps and feathers.

Andrew Windsor, to the right of the fire-place; general   _Kneller_.
in the reign of Queen Anne, serving in the
twenty-eighth regiment of foot
Thomas Windsor to the left, who served in several wars    _Kneller_.
of William and Queen Anne, and was colonel of the third
regiment of Dragoon guards, in the reign of King George
I.
Lady Ursula Windsor                                       _Kneller_.
Hon. Master Windsor                                       _Unknown_.
A good painting of Ursula, Countess of Windsor, with      _Kneller_.
her grand-daughter Ursula Windsor
Thomas, Lord Windsor, governor of Jamaica.                _Vandyke_.
Hon. Charlotta Windsor                                    _Dahl_.
Hon. Ursula Windsor                                       _Ibid_.
Hon. Dixia Windsor, storekeeper of the ordnance, and for six
successive parliaments member for Cambridge.

This Castle belongs to the Marquis of Bute.  In this place, Robert, Earl
of Gloucester, founded a priory of White Friars, and another of Black,
which continued till the reign of King Henry VIII.  Only the shell of the
White Friars is now extant, and the ruins of the Black Friars are
inhabited by fishermen.  It has only one church, which is of Norman
architecture, with a rich and handsome west door, and an elegant tower.

The races at Cardiff, in October, are very good, and with the balls, are
frequented by a brilliant display of beauty and fashion; the ordinaries
are likewise well attended by the principal nobility and gentry of the
country, and are very good.

From Cardiff we walked to inspect the remains of the once celebrated city
of



LLANDAFF.


The ruins of the old Cathedral are very beautiful; the door-cases are all
Norman architecture, elegantly moulded; two of which, on the north and
south sides, are fine specimens of that order.  All the other parts are
Gothic: the nave is unroofed.  Within these ruins we entered the
Cathedral, which carries with it more the appearance of a modern theatre
than a place of divine worship, so erroneous was the taste of the
architect, in combining with the sacred Gothic a fantastical work of his
own.  Among several ancient monuments, are two very elegant ones of the
Mathews family, {38a} whose descendants own the site of the bishop’s
castle, of which only the gate remains: the rest, with the archdeacon’s
house, was destroyed by Owen Glendour. {38b}  There are likewise the
monuments of two Bishops, with another, and the figure of Lady Godiva,
full length, carved in marble on it.

The present cathedral was built by Bishop Urban, about the year 1107: its
length is two hundred and sixty-three feet and a half, breadth sixty-five
feet, and height one hundred and nineteen feet; like Bangor, it has no
cross aisle.

Near this city is the rural village and the castle of St. Fajans,
celebrated for a sanguinary battle, fought in its vicinity between the
Royalists and Republicans, during the Protectorate of Cromwell, in which
the former were defeated with the loss of nearly the whole of their
troops.  Llandaff, although it ranks as an episcopal city, and was one of
the first places in the British dominions in which a religious
establishment was founded, boasting the erection of its first church A.D.
186, is now little better than a village dependant on Cardiff for its
supplies: even its clergy find few inducements to draw their attention to
it, beyond what duty requires: they possess a chapter-room, kitchen, and
office for the Proctor-general, yet seldom meet more than once a year for
the audit.

Llandaff stands on a small eminence, commanding a view of Cardiff and the
surrounding country.—We returned again to Cardiff, and the first six
miles of our road to



CAERPHILY


were not very interesting, till ascending Thorn Hill, the beauties of the
vale below, with the Flat and Steep Holmes rising in the distant
prospect, the ruins of Cardiff Castle, and the ivy-mantled walls of
Llandaff cathedral, amply compensated for the trouble of climbing this
eminence.  A little farther on, Caerphily Castle burst upon our sight,
and

    —“seemed to frown
    In awful majesty on all around.”

The founder, and the time of its erection, are very uncertain; but I
refer my readers to the first volume of the _Archæologia_; to an
ingenious Dissertation, by Daines Barrington, where it is satisfactorily
proved to have been the work of King Edward I.  This castle is one of the
noblest ruins of ancient architecture now remaining in the kingdom, and
exceeds all in bigness, except that of Windsor.  The hall and the chapel
may still be traced; the former measures about seventy feet in length,
thirty-four in breadth, and seventeen in height.  The roof is vaulted
about eight feet high, and supported by twenty arches.  On the north side
is a chimney ten feet wide, with two windows on each side, extending down
to the floor, and carried above the supposed height of this room.  At
each angle was originally a round tower of four stories, communicating
with each other by a gallery.  On the west side of the hall stairs is a
low round tower, of one story, called the Mint-house, with three painted
arches on the south side, and a square well on the west.  The leaning
tower, towards the east end, more particularly engaged our notice: it is
divided into two separate parts by a large fissure, which runs from the
top down almost to the middle.  Its lineal projection is supposed to be
on the outer side about eleven feet and a half.  On the west and north
are visible vestiges of a draw-bridge.

The east wall, on the south side of the principal entrance, is fluted
between the buttresses, with battlements on their tops, to protect the
intermediate walls.

This castle was that to which the Spensers retired in the reign of Edward
II. but being taken, there were discovered within the walls, 2,000 fat
oxen, 12,000 cows, 25,000 calves, 30,000 fat sheep, 600 horses, 2,000 fat
hogs; besides 2,000 beeves, 600 sheep, and 1,000 hogs salted: 200 tons of
wine, 40 tons of cider, and wheat for 2,000 men for four years.

We now came to the celebrated



VALE OF GLAMORGAN,


so justly styled the Garden of South Wales: the rapid Taff forms an
almost continued uproar for many miles; on the opposite side the
mountains rose almost perpendicularly in a massy wall, and sometimes to
the water’s edge, finely clothed with wood.  Every circumstance conspired
to heighten the solitary grandeur of the scene, and to prolong the
luxurious melancholy which the views inspired.  In this celebrated vale
is found the famous Pont-y-prid, or New Bridge, about three quarters of a
mile from the Duke of Bridgewater’s Arms.  This wonderful bridge of one
arch is the segment of a circle; the chord of it is one hundred and forty
feet, and the height of the key-stone from the spring of the arch,
thirty-two feet and a half.  It was erected in the year 1750, by William
Edwards, a country mason, who failed in his attempt three times, till he
lightened the abutments; it has resisted for many years the torrents of
the Taff.

This bridge, which in its present state is nearly useless, might, at a
very trifling expense, be made as useful as it is wonderful; but the
river, which is at most times fordable, renders this perhaps unnecessary.
Till this bridge was erected, the Rialto at Venice was esteemed the
largest arch in Europe; its span or chord being ninety-eight feet: but
this bridge is forty-two feet wider; being, it is supposed, the largest
arch in the world.

Wales is generally remarkable for its white-washed cottages, the origin
of which custom is attributed to Glamorganshire: the cleanliness, as far
as this county is concerned, is chiefly on the outside; but so great is
their attachment to lime white, that even the stone garden-wall, the
pig-sty, or any stone within moderate distance of the cottage, receives
its due share of attention; in some parts even the blue slate roof, which
to the eyes of an Englishman forms a happy contrast to the whitened wall,
is offensive to the eyes of the Welsh, and the roof undergoes the same
process as the walls.

The intrusion of art in this romantic valley, where nature has been so
lavish of her beauties, is much to be lamented.  A canal, for the purpose
of conveying the iron from the Merthyr works to Cardiff, renders that a
place of frequent business and confusion, which was originally so well
adapted to retirement and reflection.

Not only the road from hence to Merthyr, but all the way from Cardiff to
that place, the road is esteemed amongst the best in Wales; the views
along it are likewise such as to keep the attention alive, nature and art
combining to give effect: in one place the rapid Taff is seen breaking
its way through the woody cliffs, to the lowest level of the vale, and in
the next instant the boats are seen navigating the canal, which winds its
course most strangely round the mountain’s brow, three hundred feet above
the current of the Taff.

Long before you reach Merthyr, the blackened atmosphere points out the
site; but when immediately upon it, you are obliged to inquire where it
is, and the way to it: from Cardiff you approach it by the Plymouth
works, belonging to Mr. Hill: these lie wide and scattered, and are still
extending, the road passing through them for a considerable distance;
they are altogether worked by water, forming various fine falls from the
same source, viz. the Taff.

After passing these, you appear entering on an extended suburb to a large
town; but the town itself is nowhere visible: it is without form or
order; in short, to get to your inn you can scarcely find your way along
the main road; for to dignify it with the name of street, is more than it
merits; yet here is collected together a larger and more bustling
population than any other town in the principality can boast; its markets
are large, well attended, and more than reasonable; its shopkeepers are
numerous and thriving; and all that seems to be required to make this
town one of the most respectable in the principality is a little
attention to order and cleanliness: the lower classes, it is true, are
miserably poor; still, even about the iron-works, there are so many
better provided for, and so much money is monthly put into circulation,
that but little trouble would be wanted to make it assume the appearance,
as well as enjoy the reality, of being a populous busy town of trade.

The largest works at Merthyr are the Cyfartha, belonging to Mr. Crawshay:
these now consist of six blast furnaces, and two near the town, with
fineries, air and puddling furnaces, mill forges, &c. in proportion.  The
blast is furnished by a steam engine of eighty-horse power and an immense
overshot water-wheel, fifty feet in diameter, by seven feet in width:
this wheel rests on gudgeons, which weigh one hundred tons: it consumes
about twenty-five tons of water per minute; part of the water is brought
a considerable distance along a trough supported by stone pillars; the
rest is furnished from the Taff.

The gudgeons of all the wheels, and of such parts of the machine where
there is any friction, have water continually running over them, to
prevent their taking fire.  It is the particular office of one man to
grease every part of the machine whilst in motion; to accomplish which,
he is frequently obliged to ride on an iron bar, similar to the lever of
a pump when in motion, a considerable way from the ground.  The whole of
this machinery is worked by water, not more than a foot deep, which is
conveyed by a long spout to the top of the wheel, where it discharges
itself.  The ore, lime-stone, and coals, which they use to promote the
fusion of the ore, are all found on the spot.  The ore, previous to its
being thrown into the furnace, is burnt in a common lime-pit; the
goodness of it is afterwards proved, by its adhesion to the tongue: the
coal is all charked, and continually put into the furnace with certain
proportions of ore.  From the pigs, the iron is rolled into flat plates
by a cylinder; this is performed with the greatest despatch.  The gaunt
figures of the workmen excite both pity and terror, and the sallow
countenances and miserable air of the people prove it is a labour very
prejudicial to their health.

Mr. Crawshay employs upwards of five thousand men in his works only; but
to form an estimate of the numbers employed, and the produce of iron
afforded, I subjoin the following list of the principal works in the
vales from Abergavenny to Neath, each furnace producing, on an average,
from forty-five to seventy tons of iron per week.  The two large
furnaces, belonging to Messrs. Crawshay, near to Merthyr, are said to
have furnished, for a short period, upwards of one hundred tons each per
week.


FURNACES.

Clydac, or Llanelly (in the parish of latter)
Freer                                                   2 furnaces
Blenavon, Hill                                          4
The Varteg                                              2
Nant eglo, Bayley                                       4
Beaufort, Kendal                                        3
Ebro Vale, Harford                                      2
Sirhowy, Harford                                        2
Tredegar, S. Homfray and Co.                            5
Romney, Mrs. Hall                                       2
Dowlass, Guest and Co.                                  8
Penydarran, Forman and Thompson                         5
Cyfartha, Crawshays                                     8
Plymouth, R. I. and A. Hill                             5
Aberdare, formerly Thompson and Scales, now Scales      3
and Co.
Abernant, ditto, Tappendens                             1
Hirwaen                                                 2
Myers and company, four miles short of Neath, charcoal furnace, &c.

The immense collections of cinder, or refuse from the ore, astonish the
beholder: it appears almost incredible, that the labour of man could
transport such quantities of materials; but when, added to this, you
reflect that nearly the whole has passed through the furnaces, and been
moved two or three times, how much is the wonder increased!  In short, to
witness what immense capitals, indefatigable industry, and human
ingenuity can accomplish, in dragging forth the bowels of the earth, the
vales of the Taff from Brecon to Cardiff, and the very numerous vales
running parallel with the Taff, betwixt Abergavenny and Neath, should be
explored, both above ground, and in the mines; the value of the inclined
planes and rail-roads only would be immense.

About three miles to the north-east of Merthyr are the remains of Castle
Morlais, an extensive and singular ruin: it was originally a British
post, afterwards rebuilt by Gilbert, Earl of Gloucester, in the reign of
Edward I., and the source of a quarrel betwixt that nobleman and Humphrey
de Bohun, Earl of Hereford, which brought down the anger of the monarch
on both their heads to such extent, as to subject them to fine and
imprisonment: it was so completely destroyed by the Parliamentary army in
the seventeenth century, that its form and extent are difficult to trace;
a small keep, or look-out, on the most elevated part of its site, still,
however, remains: its upper story is much dilapidated; and the walls as
well as roof nearly destroyed, except the door-way and window, which are
of freestone: from the top of one of these the view of the Black
Mountains, &c. is most extensive: the lower apartment (part of the
vaulted roof of which has at length yielded to time, and the injuries of
the animals who have resorted to the upper apartment for shelter) has
once been curious; the arches, twelve in number, which supported its roof
sprang from a pillar in the centre; the rib of the arch is freestone, and
shows good masonry; the wall is likewise rubbed stone, part of which has
been defaced, apparently to see if it communicated with any other part of
the castle, or contained any thing worthy the searching for.  The
pleasantest way for an active person to ascend to this ruin, is at the
bridge above the Cyfartha works, to take the right bank, ascending the
little Taff: for some distance you pass along the quarries, and at length
reach a path cut through the woods, along the banks of this romantic
stream: the termination of the path obliges you to incline to the right,
and passing two fields, you begin to ascend the hill between a stone wall
and extensive lime-stone quarries, belonging to the Pendarren works.  The
ascent is steep; but if fine, you are amply repaid, on reaching the
summit, by the extensive views you command.  Dowlass works, which, as
well as Cyfartha, have eight furnaces, are seen from here to great
advantage.  The descent to Merthyr, along the rail-road from the
lime-stone quarries you passed in ascending, is easy and pleasant,
running alongside the beautiful grounds of Mr. Forman, formerly belonging
to Mr. S. Homfray, and which a former tourist describes as containing all
of elegance or comfort that Merthyr can boast of.  From hence we
travelled the road to Pont Neath Vechan, the first part of which is
hilly, rough, and through a barren country; but the latter half is rich
in scenery, sublime and awful, from pendent rocks and gushing cataracts,
and worthy the time and observation of the admirer of nature’s beauties.



PONT NEATH VECHAN.


About a mile and a half from Vechan we unexpectedly descended by an
excellent road through a wood into a rich romantic valley, watered by
Neath river.  In this retired situation we found the Angel inn, of Pont
Neath Vechan.  Description can scarcely suggest the full grandeur and
magnificence of this valley: woods, rocks, and waterfalls, all unite to
render it beautiful.  Our Cicerone first conducted us to the fall of
Scotenogam, on the river Purthen, about a mile and a half from the house.
This fall we saw to great advantage: the river, having gathered in its
course the accumulation of many torrents after the rain, precipitated
itself into one majestic expanse of water, near seventy feet high; whilst
the dark lowering rocks, on each side, contrasted finely with the varied
vegetation around us.  The descent is by no means easy; but the grandeur
of the scene amply compensated for all difficulties.  Our Cicerone next
conducted us to a very inferior one, called the Lady’s Cascade, on the
river Neath; but of this we caught a very indifferent prospect, the
ascent of the mountain being inaccessible, and the water too high to
admit of our obtaining a due inspection of it.  We then returned to our
inn, and set out on a different road, in quest of nature’s
landscapes.—Having walked about three miles, we heard the angry roar of
small cascades; these we considered preludes to scenes of nature’s
grandest cast, where the rushing waterfall swells into a torrent; and
accordingly we soon found ourselves near the fall of Lower Culhepste.
The character of this cataract differs very much from that of Scotenogam;
being broken in its descent from projecting rocks, of an immense size.
About a quarter of a mile from hence we descended a rugged and steep
rock, to examine the fall of Upper Culhepste, about fifty feet high.  The
singularity of this fall invites the curiosity of the traveller more than
any other in Wales: the whole river precipitates itself with such
violence, as to leave a space between the rock and the fall sufficiently
wide for a horse-path.  Though in less than two minutes we were
completely wet by the spray, yet the effect was awful and sublime; and it
was necessary to remember the fixed foundation of the rocks above our
heads, to soften the awe they inspired.  “The effect of sunshine on the
cascade,” says Mr. Malkin, “when behind it on a fine day, is both grand
and beautiful.  The particles of water glittering with a silvery
brightness, as they fall; the uncommon brilliancy of every thing without,
seen through such a medium, contrasted with the dark green of the moss,
everlastingly wet with spray; the corroded dinginess of the rock; the
damp and vaporous gloom of the atmosphere within; altogether form a
singularly mingled scene of awe and gaiety.”

Near this fall is Porthogo Cavern, through which the river Vendre runs.
The water was too high to admit our entrance; our conductor, however,
informed us he had penetrated about half a mile, but found the river wind
so many ways, he judged it safer to return, lest he should share the fate
of a poor man, who lost himself in this cavern for the space of three
days.  On our return a very intelligent gentleman, staying in the
neighbourhood, strenuously recommended us to descend a steep mountain, on
our left, to survey a curious quadrangular strata of marble in the rock
below.  With some difficulty we effected our purpose, having waded twice
through the river.  This strata in Welsh is called _bwr maen_, which
signifies a stone bow: it is situated close to the river Dynnas, which,
forcing its way through some broken fragments of the rock, forms a
cascade a little above.  The price offered for this grey marble, in
London, is fifteen shillings a foot square.

About five miles from Vechan, is the seat of Mrs. Holbrow, on the right.
We were prevented visiting the waterfalls of Melincourt and Aperdulas,
the river, owing to the late floods, being too deep to ford.  Our route
still continued through the valley we had so much admired the evening
before.  As we drew near



NEATH,


the tower of Knole Castle had a pleasing effect from a distance: it was
built by Sir Herbert Mackworth, and is at present in the possession of H.
I. Grant, Esq.  The windows from the banqueting-room command a circle of
many miles in diameter, composed of Neath valley and river, with the
smoky town of Neath—the Mumbles’ Point—Swansea, and the Channel.  The
artificial cascade is well contrived; but, after the foaming torrents of
Scotenogam and Culhepste, appears very tame.

The site of the refectory, the chapel, the hall, and several other rooms,
in the ruins of Neath Abbey, may still be traced.  It stands on the east
of the river, and was formerly, by Leland’s account, the “fairest abbey
of all Wales;” but in his Collectanea {50} he seems to give Margam the
preference of all the Cistercian houses in these parts.  It was founded
for white monks, by Richard de Granville.  About the time of its
dissolution it contained only eight monks, and was valued at 132_l._
7_s._ 7_d._ per annum.  In this abbey the unfortunate King Edward II.
secreted himself in the year 1326, when prevented, by contrary winds,
from his intended escape to Ireland; he was soon, however, discovered,
and confined in the castle of Kenilworth, under the custody of the Earl
of Leicester.  Near the ruins are the copper-works: the ore is chiefly
imported from Cornwall and Wicklow in Ireland; being calcined, and
thereby losing its sulphur, it is refined by the simple process of
frequent melting, and taking off the dross, which forms a scum: lastly,
being moulded into small plates, or pigs, it is shipped for the market.
The method of reducing the metal, when melted, into small particles, is
by pouring it into water; and when thus reduced, it is called
copper-shot.  Brass is a compound of copper thus reduced, and lapis
calaminaris pulverized in crucibles, and moulded or cast into plates.
Lapis calaminaris is dug in great quantities near Holywell, in
Flintshire.

Neath, although surrounded by beautiful scenery, is itself unpleasantly
situated: it is low, the streets narrow, the buildings old, and there is
in the first view of it an air of desertion and poverty, that sets the
traveller against it; yet it possesses some trade as a sea-port, in
coals, iron, and copper, for which it is now considerably indebted to its
canal, which communicates betwixt Aberdare and Britton Ferry.  The ruins
of the castle still exist, but possess no particular merit, derived
either from strength, beauty, or antiquity.  A navigable canal has been
made to communicate with all the interior parts of the country to Pont
Nedd Vechan.  The market days at Neath are Wednesdays and Saturdays.  It
is one hundred and ninety-six miles one furlong from London.  Near Neath
is Cringell, the residence of William Davis, Esq. author of a History of
this County; and about a mile up the vale of Neath is Cadoxton Lodge,
near which is a cascade.  The road from hence to Swansea is very good,
and not incommoded by the smoke of the copper-works, as it was formerly;
but for horse or foot passengers, though more circuitous, there is a
pleasant way by



BRITTON FERRY.


This village is much resorted to, on account of its beautiful situation;
and many a white-washed cottage straggles through the hamlet.  The
plantations of the Earl of Jersey, late Lord Vernon’s, are well disposed,
and edge the water’s brink: the river is constantly filled with vessels,
whose gay streamers glittering to the sun-beam, present to the eye a
constant moving object.  The richness and beauty of this spot is scarcely
to be equalled in all the principality: and the climate is so mild, that
myrtles, magnolias, fuschias, and other tender exotics, grow luxuriantly
in the open air.  The church-yard is very beautiful, and beneath the
shade of its trees a friend of the Editor of the present Edition wrote
the following lines:

    When death has stolen our dearest friends away,
    Some tears to shed is graceful:—but to mourn
    Loudly and deeply, that their pains are o’er,
    Is but to prove, we lov’d ourselves far more
    Than e’er we cherish’d, lov’d, or valued them.
    To bear misfortune with an equal mind;
    To mount the aspiring pinnacle of fame,
    With a warm heart, and temperate resolve;
    To curb the rage that prompts to wild revenge;
    To pay the malice of an envious throng
    With pity and forgiveness; and to weep,
    With tears of joy, that our most “useful” friend
    Has paid the debt Eternity demands,
    Alike bespeak nobility of mind,
    And the proud hope, that heaven’s decrees are just.
    Stranger! of peasant or of royal line;
    Treasure these thoughts, and Autumn’s yellow leaf
    Shall never fill thine aged eyes with tears!

Having crossed the Ferry, we proceeded on the sands to



SWANSEA.


The whole of this walk commanded a boundless view of the ocean to the
west, whilst to the south the faint hues of the Somersetshire coast
skirted the horizon.

Swansea, or Abertawe, is a well-built sea-port town, on the river Tawe,
much resorted to during the summer months.  The machines for bathing are
kept about half a mile from the town.  The castle is supposed to have
been erected by Henry, Earl of Warwick, in the reign of King Henry I.;
and is at present the property of the Duke of Beaufort; the small arches
round the top of it are exactly similar to the buildings of Lantphey
castle, and King John’s Hall, St. David’s, Pembrokeshire.  This castle is
now turned into a gaol and workhouse.  The market-place is said to be
covered with the lead of St. David’s cathedral, given by Cromwell to a
gentleman of Swansea.

The clay used for the pottery, long carried on in this place, is brought
from Corfe, in Dorsetshire: having been mixed with finely-ground flint,
and dissolved in water, it is passed through sieves, till it has lost all
its coarser particles; then exposed to heat, which evaporates the water,
and leaves the clay of a consistency sufficient for working.  The vessel
is first rudely formed by the hand, the clay being stuck to a circular
board, which has an horizontal rotation.  The other operation consists in
the more perfect forming of the work by various processes, and the
colouring, glazing, painting, and stamping; drying and baking kilns
complete the work.

The harbour of Swansea, which is large, has had great sums expended upon
it, without much judgment having been evinced in the expenditure: the
piers, which are extensive, are already frequently wanting considerable
repairs, and will always be a source of emolument to those who know how
to make the most of a good job.  Swansea Bay is beautiful, and the sail
from Swansea to Ilfracombe one of the pleasantest and cheapest I ever
enjoyed.  The entrance into the latter harbour is grand and terrific; the
stupendous rocks by which it is sheltered and enclosed impressing the
mind, on a temperate day, with that pleasing awe, which in a more
tempestuous time, “when the raging billows roar,” would amount to horror
and dismay.  Ilfracombe affords comfortable accommodation to remain at;
but to remove inland, you have to send to Barnstaple for a conveyance: it
is a most romantic situation.  Swansea is seen to great advantage from
the bay, its best front being towards the Channel; it is a mixture of
good and bad, of old streets and new, wide and narrow, pride and poverty,
much show and little wealth.  The market, which is on a Saturday, is
greatly improved of late years, and not only affords comforts, but
luxuries; yet Swansea, except to those who are acquainted with it, is a
more expensive place to reside at for a short time than an English
watering place: still those lodgings, which are so highly rated during
the season, are comfortable retreats to half-pay officers during the
winter months; and from the mildness of the climate, and many families
taking up their residence at it during that period, Swansea, were it not
for the faults and greediness or mismanagement of some of its
inhabitants, would rise to wealth and respectability.  The playhouse is
respectable, and the performers generally good, but badly repaid for
their exertions.  The post-office here is very regular, and conveyances
to Bristol, Gloucester, or London, although expensive, regular and safe.
A walk may be comfortably enjoyed in five minutes after a shower, or
between showers, without wet feet; and both drives and rides in the
vicinity are numerous and beautiful.  The libraries are good, well
supplied, and civil, and the shops accommodating, and plentifully
stocked: still I should think the traveller would take more money at
Merthyr than Swansea, and four times as much at that little high-spirited
place, Caermarthen, as at either; such at least must be the case, if any
criterion is to be formed from the quantum of circulating medium
required, as gained from the requisitions for the exchange of the new for
the old coinage, Caermarthen having wanted upwards of 20,000_l._ and
Swansea not having required 4,000_l._  The mail road to Caermarthen is by
Pontarddylais, nine miles; Llanon, four miles; Caermarthen, thirteen.
Swansea is about two hundred and five miles from London.  Its population
consists of 10,255 inhabitants.  It has some trade to the Baltic; and
more than 100,000 chaldrons of coals are annually exported.



OYSTERMOUTH CASTLE,


about five miles from Swansea, is finely situated on an eminence,
commanding a delightful prospect of the surrounding country, and the
Mumbles’ Bay.  The ivy-mantled walls of this castle are sufficiently
perfect to distinguish what the apartments were originally designed for.
It formerly belonged to the lords of Gower, but is now in the possession
of the Duke of Beaufort.  It is a majestic ruin, standing in a bold
position, commanding a beautiful view of the country, the Bay of Swansea,
and surrounded by broken cliffs.  The walls are so little injured by
time, that the design of the apartments may easily be traced.  The
general figure is polygonal; the ramparts lofty, but not flanked with
towers, except just at the entrance.  It is a good specimen of the Gothic
style; and is ascribed to the Earl of Warwick, in the reign of Henry the
First.  Our curiosity being satisfied, we hastened to the



MUMBLES,


celebrated, far and near, for the goodness and abundance of its oysters.
This village stands at the extremity of Swansea Bay, on a vast mass of
splintered rock: from this elevation the wide expanse of the ocean and
Swansea Bay are viewed to great advantage.  These rocks are inaccessible
at high water, except in a boat; on the farthest is erected a
light-house, serviceable to the navigation of the British Channel.  The
lodging-house above Oystermouth, called Thistle-boon, commands a fine
view of the Peninsula of Gower; the Bay of Swansea on one side, and that
of Caermarthen on the other.

At Pennard we descended some immense sand-banks, which led us into Oxwich
Bay: at the head of the sandbanks are the small remains of an old castle,
{57a} scarcely worthy of observation.  The sands in this bay are
extremely fine, and the bold projections of the rock exhibit Nature in
her most awful and impressive attitudes.  To the right of Oxwich Bay is
situate, at Penrice, {57b} the seat of Mr. Talbot: the grounds are well
planned, and command extensive views of the sea: the old castle, rising
behind the house, gave the whole a fine effect.  It has been converted
into an aviary.  Lady Mary Talbot (now Cole), has the most beautiful
flower garden in the whole principality.

Between Penrice and the neat village of



CHERITON,


we observed to our right, on a hill, a large flat cromlech, several tons
weight, resting on about six smaller ones, placed perpendicularly, and
standing about five feet high: this is vulgarly called King Arthur’s
stone.  The lifting of this stone in its present place is mentioned in
the Welsh Historical Triads as one of the three arduous undertakings
accomplished in the Island of Britain.  On a hill, opposite our inn, we
discovered evident vestiges of a Roman encampment.  From this elevation
the eye caught a fine view of Caermarthen Bay, and the bold promontory of
Worm’s Head, to the south-west: this rock is only accessible at low
water.

The country through which we traversed for the four or five last miles is
inhabited by a colony of Flemings, who settled here in the reign of King
Henry I.  In the reign of this king’s father, a great number of Flemings
having been driven out of their habitations by a very extraordinary
inundation of the sea, sought protection in England, where they were
cordially received.  But so many of these people being dispersed in
different parts of the kingdom, began, by the increase of their numbers,
to create some uneasiness; which King Henry I. removed, by settling them
as a colony in South Wales, and gave them the country adjoining to Tenby
and Haverfordwest.  By this wise policy the king rid his own dominions of
an incumbrance, and curbed the insolence of the then rebellious
Cambrians. {58}  The little territory they inhabit is called _Gwyr_; and
by the English, Little England beyond Wales: because their manners and
language are still distinguishable from the Welsh, and in point of speech
assimilate the English.  These Flemings, to this day, seldom or never
intermarry with the Welsh: they speak good English, and are very much
averse to the manners and language of the country they inhabit; both
sexes generally distinguish themselves by wearing a short cloak, called
_gowyr wittle_.

In preference to a long walk, of near thirty miles, we crossed the river
Bury, at Loughton, in the church-yard of which village we found the
following epitaph:

    The village maidens to her grave shall bring
    Selected garlands, each returning spring:
    Selected sweets! in emblem of the maid,
    Who underneath this hallowed turf is laid:
    Like her, they flourish, beauteous to the eye;
    Like her, too soon, they languish, fade and die.

From Loughor we proceeded to



LLANELLY,


a miserable dirty place, filled with miners and sailors.  From hence to



KIDWELLY,


the road leads over the Pembree hills; and from this elevation the
scenery is viewed to great advantage.

The castle of Kidwelly, otherwise Cathweli, was formerly, I imagine, of
great extent, and is still the most perfect we had hitherto met with in
Wales.  The extent of the apartments is distinguishable; some of the
staircases accessible; and the four round towers, keep, gateway, and
yard, spread an awful gloom around, whose beauties time had just
sufficiently impaired, to heighten its grandeur and sublimity.  To this
castle King John retired, when at war with his Barons.  Our guide
expatiated much on the history and events of the castle, and told the
story with as much agitation and interest as if it had happened
yesterday.  The road to



CAERMARTHEN


we found unpleasantly hilly, but occasional valleys to our left enlivened
our walk.  Near Caermarthen we crossed a bridge of freestone over the
Towy.  This river, running through the middle of this shire, falls into
the British Sea at Caermarthen Bay, and is navigable for small vessels as
far as the bridge.  Immediately over it, upon a hanging rock, stand the
remains of a once renowned castle.  This town was the site of a Roman
station, _Maridunum_, and, according to Giraldus’s authority, was
anciently a place of great strength, and fortified with brick walls,
which are yet partly extant, near the river.  This place, now considered
as the capital of the county, was formerly the residence of the Prince of
South Wales; and the ancient Britons here held their parliaments.  The
chancery likewise, and exchequer for South Wales, were kept here, when
this territory was first erected into a principality, by the crown of
England.  In the thirty-eighth year of King Henry VIII. it was created a
borough-town.

No part of Wales can boast a more generous or higher-spirited people than
the gentry in the vicinity, and the inhabitants of Caermarthen.  Its
trade is likewise considerable, as the circumjacent country, for a very
considerable distance, is dependent upon it for the common luxuries, and
what are now deemed, even in Wales, necessaries of life, for which they
bring for sale or barter the most simple article of the native produce;
and you may frequently see the basket that has been brought for miles,
not contain a sixpenny-worth of herbs, eggs, &c.; yet this trifle is to
them of consequence, and enables them to add to the little stock of tea,
tape, or pins, which they require.  The busy scene of a Caermarthen
market is highly interesting, particularly to one fond of the study of
political economy.

    “Man wants but little here below,
    Nor wants that little long.”

How cheap must be the subsistence of a party who can walk twelve or
fourteen miles to earn sixpence, or disburse a shilling or
eighteen-pence, and how few must be their weekly wants which so small a
sum can satisfy!  It is true they divide this labour, and each take their
turn of village or neighbourly duty.  The market of this place is not
only extremely reasonable, but excellent; hardly excelled in quality by
any but Worcester, the cleanliness and beauty of the exhibition of which
beats all England.  Caermarthen has abundance of good meat, fish,
poultry, butter, wild-fowl, and game.  In December, 1819, I bought three
fine turkeys for nine shillings, fowls from eightpence to one shilling
each, and other things in proportion; still the taxes are the same as in
England, and good land is high rented; but the wants of the tenantry are
fewer; small farms are abundant, and every cottage has its garden and
plot of ground, as well as waste land generally: fuel is likewise cheap.

The view from Caermarthen over the Towy is beautiful, and not to be
enjoyed any where to greater advantage than from the back rooms of the
Ivy Bush inn, or the terrace walk in the garden.  Its population is rated
at between 7 and 8000, and its houses at about 1200.  The market days are
Saturday and Wednesday.  It is 231 miles from London, by Bristol, and 216
by Gloucester.

The mail arrives from London at nine in the morning, and departs at two
o’clock in the afternoon generally.  I should feel it the height of
ingratitude, if I had failed to notice the great attention paid to
strangers who attend divine service at the church: not only are they
immediately accommodated in comfortable pews, but prayer-books are
supplied to them by the son of the clerk.  In short, I witnessed a
courtesy and attention to strangers, and a backwardness to receive
remuneration, such as I never saw evinced at any other place.

The late Ivy Bush was the house of Sir Richard Steele, who obtained it
and his property in this neighbourhood by marriage with the heiress of
Jonathan Scurlock, Esq.  After the death of his wife he retired to a
small farm-house, called the White House, lying about a mile from
Caermarthen, and there he wrote his celebrated comedy of the Conscious
Lovers.

At some distance from Caermarthen are several very remarkable caves:
whence Merlin is supposed to have delivered his oracles.

    Of Merlin and his skill what region doth not hear?
    Who of a British nymph was gotten whilst she play’d
    With a seducing spirit.

                                               _Drayton Polyolbion_, s. v.

Caermarthen gave birth to Merlin, who is styled, by an ancient author,
“the sonne of a badde angell, or of an incubus spirit, the Britaine’s
great Apollo, whom Geoffrey ap Arthur would ranke with the south-saying
seer, or rather with the true prophets themselves; being none other than
a mere seducer and phantastical wizard.”  He flourished in the year 480.

Some few years after this tour, I took the road to Caermarthen from
Ragland, through Crickhowel, Brecon, Llandovery, and Landilo.  Passing
through Abergavenny, we paused for a few days at Crickhowel, where we
amused ourselves in fly-fishing in the river Usk.

Crickhowel stands in the centre of a vale, scarcely surpassed by that of
the Towy; and is supposed to have been built in the time of Howel Dha,
about the year 940.  The castle presents little to attract attention.
The church contains some few ancient monuments; but the principal objects
for a traveller are to be found at a short distance from the town; viz. a
remarkable cave south of Langattock; a waterfall in a dingle, leading to
Llanelly iron-works; the remains of a castle, on what is called the Camp
Hill; and the beautiful village of Lambeter, the walks of which are, of
themselves, almost worthy a journey into Wales.  The society around
Crickhowel is highly respectable; but there are no noblemen’s seats, and
only one park within the distance of many miles.  The natural scenery,
however, amply compensates.

From Crickhowel we proceeded to a village named Cwmdu, situated between
two chains of mountains.  The village is poor to the last degree, but the
land is rich; and the valley, in which it is situated, may be called the
granary of Brecknockshire.  There is scarcely a field on the lower sides
of the hills, that does not present a spot favourable to build upon.
From the farm and house, called Cwmgû, is one of the most beautiful views
in all Wales; commanding, as it does, the vale of Usk, the river winding
through it, innumerable fields, a high mountain towards the north, the
town of Crickhowel on the east; the ruins of Tretower below; a woody hill
rising above it; and, from a field at a short distance from the house,
the double head of the Beacons, towering, as it were, into the clouds.

Brecon, or Aber Honddu, is a very romantic town; with good inns, and
every accommodation for a respectable family.  The views around it are
beautiful; the Priory groves, as a public walk, are the most delightful
in all Wales, perhaps in Britain; while the castle, the priory, and other
fragments of antiquity, afford ample materials for the contemplation of
those who connect scenes with former events; for within the walls of the
castle was planned the union of the two houses of York and Lancaster.

Passing through Trecastle, a miserable village, once a large town,
possessing the ruins of a castle, we entered a valley, winding for six or
eight miles at the feet of mountains, presenting at every step something
to admire, and arrived at Llandovery, or Llanymddvri, situated on the
banks of the Brane, near the head of the upper vale of Towy.  Here we
found the remains of a small castle, once in the possession of Richard de
Pws; small in dimensions, and uninteresting in its history; but the town
derives some notice from its having produced Rhys Prichard, author of a
book well known in almost every _Welsh_ house by the name of the _Vicar’s
Book_.  He sleeps here without inscription or monument.

From Llandovery, the road and the Towy proceed to Llandilo through a
country at once rich in fertility, and beautiful in point of scenery.
Llandilo is remarkable for a battle, fought in 1281, between Edward the
First and Llewellyn the Great.  It has no feature in itself worthy of
attention; but its environs are beautiful to the last degree.

About a mile from this town, on the road to Caermarthen, are the ruins of
Dinevawr Castle, the most celebrated spot in the principality.  This
castle was erected by Roderique the Great, in the year 877.  So much have
been written of these ruins, of the noble park, belonging to Lord
Dynevor, and the country round, that I shall merely observe, that, after
passing a few hours in admiration, we passed on to Grongar Hill, and sate
beneath the hawthorn under which Dyer is supposed to have written his
beautiful poem.  I cannot, however, refrain from quoting a passage from
Spenser, where he describes the Cave of Merlin, which he places near the
rocks of Dinevawr.

       If thou shouldst ever happen that same way
       To travel, go to see that dreadful place:
       It is a hideous, hollow, cave-like bay
       Under a rock, that has a little space
       From the swift Barry, tumbling down apace,
       Amongst the woody hills of Dinevawr.
       But dare thou not, I charge, in any case
       To enter into that same baleful bower,
    For fear the cruel fiends should thee unawares devour.

       But standing high aloft, low lay thine ear;
       And there such ghastly noise of iron chains,
       And brasen cauldrons thou shalt rumbling hear,
       Which thousand sprights with long enduring pains
       Do toss, that it will stun thy feeble brains.
       And oftentimes great groans, and grievous sounds,
       When too huge toil and labour them constrains.
       And oftentimes loud strokes and ringing sounds
    From under that deep rock most horribly rebounds.

                                          FAERIE QUEENE, B. iii.  Cant. 3.

The view from Grongar Hill is inexpressibly beautiful.  To attempt
describing it would only be showing the poverty of human language.

From this spot the road winds to Caermarthen with many a graceful curve,
through a country presenting a multitude of objects for the pencil of an
accomplished painter.

The regular road to Tenby is by St. Clears, nine miles one quarter: Cold
Blow, ten miles seven furlongs; left to Tenby, eight miles and a quarter;
at St. Clears is the Blue Boar, and at Cold Blow the Windsor Castle; but,
should the Tourist prefer the coast to the regular road, I should
recommend him to visit Llanstaphan castle, at the mouth of the Towy; a
large and venerable ruin, memorable for the siege it sustained about the
middle of the twelfth century, when defended by Meredith ap Gruffydd, who
defeated all the attacks of the Normans, &c. who besieged it.  The
village, which is now resorted to for sea-bathing, is situate at the
bottom of the hill.  At high water there is a ferry to the village on the
opposite side: at low water, at particular periods, the sands may be
crossed on horseback; but strangers should not attempt this without a
guide.  From Llanstaphan the Tourist may proceed by Llaugharne, Green
Bridge, &c.

From Caermarthen we were recommended to go to



LLAUGHARNE,


in order to see the castle; but it by no means answered our expectation:
little part of it now remains; and the neat gravel walk in the garden is
ill adapted for the mutilated walls of an ancient ruin.  From the
neighbouring heights, grand and extensive sea-prospects interest the
traveller.  At this place was born the once-celebrated Dean Tucker.  One
mile distant is another ruin, called Rock Castle, but supposed to have
been a monastery.  About five miles from Llaugharne, we passed a small
place, called



GREEN BRIDGE.


It derives its name from an excavation in the rock, through which a
little rivulet runs for a mile and a half.  This cavity is completely
concealed from the road, and impossible to be discovered, unless pointed
out.  But I would advise travellers to alter their route from Swansea,
and pursue the straight road to Caermarthen, by Pontarddylais, where is a
comfortable inn, and so to Tenby, by Narbeth.  By these means they escape
the unpleasant roads (and almost, indeed, inaccessible for carriages),
leading from Oystermouth to Cheriton, and likewise from Llaugharne to
Tenby.  But should the Tourist be led by an invincible curiosity to
inspect the ruins of Kidwelly Castle, it may easily be accomplished, by
pursuing the turnpike road to Kidwelly, and from thence to Caermarthen.
In this last route you only omit visiting the seat of Mr. Talbot, of
Penrice, though an object highly worthy of inspection.

At Saunders’ Foot is a small bay, formed on one side by a rock, called
the Monkstone, and on the other by the Caermarthenshire coast.  Near this
place is situate the seat of Captain Ackland; and from thence to Tenby,
the dark lowering rocks rose perpendicularly to a considerable height,
and then branched out into overhanging crags.  It was now dusk;—and at
this transforming hour, the bold promontories became shaded with unreal
glooms,—the projecting cliffs assumed a more terrific aspect,—and the
wild overhanging underwood

    “Waved to the gale in hoarser murmurs.”



TENBY


is much resorted to during the summer months for bathing.  It stands on a
rock facing Caermarthen Bay: the bold promontory of the Monkstone Head to
the north, and St. Catherine’s Point to the south, form a fine
amphitheatre.  The shore is well adapted for bathing; the machines
excellent; and a singular rock, rising in the sea close to the shore,
shelters the bathing machines even in the most boisterous weather.  On
the south of Tenby, at the extremity of the small island of St.
Catherine’s, attainable at low-water, are the remains of a Roman Catholic
chapel.  Entirely through this island is a singular perforation, which,
without any difficulty, may be penetrated at the reflux of the tide.  The
views from the south sands are remarkably beautiful; the character of the
rocks is here awfully wild, craggy, and impending; and the distant
fishing-boats, with their white sails, and the voices of the fishermen,
who constantly frequent this coast, borne at intervals on the air, are
circumstances which animate the scene: whilst the islands of Caldy and
St. Margaret’s opportunely rise, to render the terrific ocean beautiful.
The retrospect is equally interesting; the neat town of Tenby, with the
mutilated walls of its castle, closes this charming scene.

The ancient walls of Tenby are still sufficiently perfect to show its
former strength and extent; and the four round towers, standing on the
extremity of the rock, point out the situation of its castle.  Near this
is a ruinous building, supposed to be the remains of a Flemish
manufactory, probably woollen.  On the north sands is likewise another
walk, equally beautiful, commanding the whole extent of Caermarthen Bay.
On the summit of the rocks, over these sands, is the walk called the
Croft.

Tenby is greatly indebted to Sir William Paxton for his exertions in
improving it.  The inconvenience it so long laboured under from want of
water has been, through his means, completely removed, and that most
necessary article of life is now enjoyed by its inhabitants in great
purity and profusion.

From the general high state of perfection and transparent clearness of
the sea-water at Tenby, it has become a place of that fashionable resort,
that both hot and cold sea-water baths became requisite for the comfort
and infirmities of its numerous genteel visitors: these Sir William has
likewise caused to be erected on the most convenient plans, with
extensive reservoirs, dressing, and lounging-rooms, &c. under the
superintendence of Mr. Cockerell.  The bath-house is beautifully situated
outside the harbour, adjoining the Castle Hill: an excellent
carriage-road leads to it; and a large vestibule is allotted for servants
to wait in: lodgings and refreshments are likewise provided for such as
require them.  The dressing-rooms for the warm and vapour baths are
raised to any temperature by warm air; and there is a cupping-room,
provided with all necessary apparatus, for such as require that
operation.

The principal inns and hotels are Shaw’s, Jenkins’s, the Lion and the
Bull; there is a theatre, bowling-green, assemblies, billiard-rooms,
library, &c. &c.  Horses are to be hired: and both rides and walks, in
the vicinity, are beautiful and abundant.

This place, from the vast quantity of fish caught near the coast, is
called Tenby-y-Piscoid.  The Church of Tenby is a large, handsome, and
antique edifice, and contains several monuments, bearing an ancient date,
worthy of notice.  On the left of the altar is one to William Risam, with
the following inscription.

    Two hundred pounds
       And 50 more
    He gave this towne
       to help the poore.

    The use of one on cloth
       and coles bestowe
    For twelve decrepid mean
       and lowe.

    Let 50 pounds to five
       Be yearly lent
    The other’s use on Burges’
       sonne’s be spent.

On the same side is a monument to the memory of John Moore, Esq., who, at
the age of fifty-eight, and having by his first wife six sons and ten
daughters, fell desperately in love, which not being returned, he died of
a consumption at Tenby.  The following epitaph is very allusive to his
unfortunate catastrophe:

    He that from home for love
       was hither brought,
    Is now brought home, this God
       for him hath wrought.

Another monument to Morgan Williams:

                                Igne probatur
                      En animus rursus clare in corpore
                               MORGAN WILLIAMS,
                        descended from the heiress of
                    Robert Ferrar, Bishop of St. David’s,
                     Burnt alive by bigots under Q. Mary;
                         was lately chief of Gargam,
                           and senior in council at
                                   Madras.
                     Where Oct. 27, 1690, aged 49 years,
                      he resign’d the President’s chair
                           and his breath together.
                      An employment of full thirty years
                           chronicles the continual
                         approbation of his conduct,
                               particularly as
                      chief commissioner of the circuit.

To the south of Tenby are some insulated rocks, in which are many curious
excavations, and several islands, the principal of which is Caldy Island,
consisting of about 600 acres, 200 of which are in a state of
cultivation.  The tower of its ancient priory is still standing.

If the Tourist has leisure and opportunity, many excursions may be made
during his stay at Tenby.  The first and most important is, to Pembroke
and Milford Haven.  The road affords many grand and extensive sea views,
with a faint prospect of Lundy Isle.  About four miles from Tenby stand
the ruins of Mannorbeer castle, {72a} supposed to have been erected about
the time of William Rufus.  A little farther on, the ivy-mantled walls of
Carew Castle {72b} burst upon us; and, about three miles from Pembroke,
the decayed and broken walls of Llanfeth, or Lantphey Castle, attracted
our notice, once the residence of the Bishops of St. David’s, but now a
monument of desolation.  The three buildings of Swansea Castle; Lantphey
Court; and King John’s Hall, St. David’s; are very similar in their
workmanship.  We now arrived at



PEMBROKE.


Mr. Wyndham has so minutely delineated the present state of this castle,
that I cannot do better than transcribe his account:

    “The approach to Pembroke from the river shows the town and castle to
    the most beautiful advantage.  The town is situated upon the ridge of
    a long and narrow rock, gradually ascending to the highest point, on
    which stands the castle, at the brink of the precipice.  If I may
    compare small things with great, it much resembles the situation of
    Edinburgh.

    “The castle is of Norman architecture, mixed with early Gothic.  The
    principal tower, which is uncommonly high and perfect, has even its
    stone vaulted roof remaining.  The walls of this tower are fourteen
    feet in thickness, the diameter of the space within is twenty-five,
    and the height, from the ground to the crown of the dome, is
    seventy-five feet; but visible marks appear within, that its height
    was originally divided by four floors.

    “King Henry VII. was born in the present castle.  The natural cavern,
    called the Wogan, lies immediately under the chapel, and opens with a
    wide mouth towards the river.  A communication from the cavern to the
    castle was made by a staircase, on the outside of the rock; the
    entrance was barricaded with a strong wall, partly remaining, through
    which there is now a large door-way opened to the shore of the river.
    The cavern appears nearly circular; its diameter is fifty-three feet,
    and its height is proportionable to the diameter.

    “In the civil war this castle was a garrison for the crown; and,
    being besieged, made a gallant defence.”  In a cavern under this
    castle is a remarkable echo.

Pembroke is by many still considered the next town, in South Wales, to
Caermarthen; but, although the situation is fine, and the main street
good, still the residue of the town shows evident symptoms of decay, and
that it lacks that trade and notice which Haverfordwest is deriving from
its downfall.  It gives the title of Earl to the Herbert family.

The two churches within the walls are ancient.  St. Michael’s is of
Norman architecture; it is at the east end of the town: St. Mary’s in the
centre of it.  The priory church has its nave vaulted with stone; it is
paved with glazed bricks, with arms, flowers, &c. upon them.  Near the
church is the prior’s mansion, which still exhibits proofs of its former
splendour and the large establishment of its possessors: it is now become
a humble dilapidated farm-house; and, to trace its origin, you must go to
the foundation.  In 1811 Pembroke contained 501 houses, and a population
of 2415 persons.  From hence is a pleasant excursion, the account of
which, as given by Mr. Fenton, in his work on Pembrokeshire, I subjoin:—

    “Quitting the magnificent ruins of Pembroke, pass through Monkton,
    from the height of which an admirable view may be attained; reach Dry
    Burrows, a furzy moor, covered with tumuli.  To the left stands
    Orielton.  Here, turn to the right, passing Castleton, still you will
    observe various tumuli: from this height to the right, the navigation
    from Pennarmouth to the town of Pembroke.  The coast here is famous
    for oysters of superior excellence, in inexhaustible quantities.
    Descend by Hênllan, anciently inhabited by the descendants of
    Gwynfard Dyfed: hence to Pwllcrochon church-yard, upon a small creek
    of Milford Haven, in which a memorable skirmish took place between
    the king’s and parliament’s forces.  The parish church of
    Rhôscrowther is dignified with a handsome tower, and the interior
    contains some figures well sculptured: distant a quarter of a mile
    stands Iestingtown, or vulgarly Iseston, long the residence of the
    family of Meares; it appears to have been castellated.  Not far from
    the church is a well, called St. Degmen’s, to which great virtues
    have been ascribed.  Skirting the Bay of Nangle, reach the village of
    that name, so called from being somewhat placed _in angulo_.  It
    bears marks of former consequence: in the church is a monument to
    Brigadier Ferrars.  To the north of a brook, running behind the
    church-yard, are the remains of a considerable building, with a
    square tower, called the castle, said to have been the principal
    residence of the Sherbones, ancient Lords of the Vill; it is now an
    inn.  Hence along the coast is a block-house, a singular building,
    reared upon the very edge of a horrid precipice overhanging the sea,
    fronting another upon the dale side of Milford.  The masonry of these
    buildings is excellent; their origin is uncertain.  Leaving Bangeston
    on the left, after passing over a sandy tract, you reach the village
    of Castle Martin, an ancient British post, part of the works of which
    are still remaining.  A little further is Merion Court, belonging to
    Lord Cawdor; and, near to the village, to the north-east, a British
    circular camp.  The road now passes the extremity of Lord Cawdor’s
    property at Brawnslade, farmed on the most improved principles.
    Still further along the coast is Bully Bear, where are the remains of
    a fortified camp.  Hence to Linney Point, and the Head of Man, a
    promontory of great height, awfully overhanging its base: near this,
    a fine view of an insulated rock, called Pennyholt Stock, pass the
    Wash to a Danish camp; in which is that wonderful chasm called the
    Caldron: the entrance to the camp is by a winding ascent; it has been
    of considerable extent and great strength; and, with the Caldron and
    rock, most curious and worthy of observation.  Bosherton Meer is
    occasionally agitated to such an extent as to be heard at a
    considerable distance—resembling thunder, and its foam rising many
    feet above the mouth of the pit.  At a short distance to the east, is
    a fissure in the cliffs not discernible till nearly on its edge,
    called Penny’s and Adam’s Leap, over which these hunters were
    precipitated: thence you proceed to the Horse Block, and St. Govan’s
    Chapel and Well, to the latter of which great virtues are ascribed.
    The surrounding scenery is in the highest degree picturesque: the
    larger bay is surrounded by cliffs, in the form of an amphitheatre;
    that in which the hermitage is placed is truly romantic.  In
    proceeding to Stackpool Court, after again gaining the height, you
    pass Buckspool, and from thence to Bosherton; below the village, pass
    under a tongue of land, on which are the remains of a strong
    encampment; near this is a small cavern, in the Limestone Rock, where
    human bones have been found.  Harold is said to have infested this
    coast, and to have left marks of his predatory victories inscribed—

                          Hic Haroldus victor fuit.

    Of three stones, the most east stands in Stackpool Park Warren,
    pitched upon one end; the second, surmounting a carnedd, is in a
    field called Horsestone Park, consisting of a great mass of
    limestone, six feet above the ground, five in breadth, and a foot in
    thickness; it is bedded in an almost circular mound of stones.  The
    third stone is upon the same line, but more west; it is the tallest,
    almost incrusted with a minute lichen.”

Stackpool Court (from the broad rock at the mouth of Broad Haven) is the
elegant seat of Lord Cawdor.  It is on the west side of the pool, on a
fine eminence, at the edge of a bold declivity.  It bore originally a
castellated form, but lost its ancient baronial character.  In the civil
wars it was fortified and garrisoned for the king.  The walls were so
strong, that the ordnance made little impression.  The present mansion,
which occupies the same site, is of wrought limestone; its architecture
is heavy.  Lady Cawdor has contributed to Mr. Fenton’s Tour, from her own
pencil, a charming view of this vicinity, taken near the bridge, in
crossing from the house to the park.  The house has two fronts, the
principal one facing the pleasure-ground, the other opening to a fine
piece of water.  You enter the latter front from a broad terrace,
extending to the whole length; and, after descending, it continues to the
extent of a spacious conservatory.  The house is formed into many fine
apartments, and the library is large.  In one room, containing family
pictures, is a whole length of Lord Cawdor, by Sir J. Reynolds, and
another of Lady Cawdor, by Sir W. Beechey.  The offices are well
arranged, and the stables form a detached large quadrangular building.
Of Stackpool, says Mr. Fenton, without straining a compliment, there are
few places which display more magnificence without, or more sumptuous
hospitality and elegant comforts within.  But, to sum up the importance
of this place, be it known that it stands in the midst of a property of
fifteen thousand acres of most valuable land!  Opposite is the park, well
stocked with deer, deformed by some barren sand-banks, and at present
deficient in wood.  The borders of the lake and the pleasure-grounds are,
however, richly wooded.  Between the park and the sea there is a warren,
formed of mountains of sand, and consolidated by that valuable plant
môrhesg (juncus maritimus), sea or mat rushes.  The lake is abundantly
stocked with wild fowl, which collect at a call, and consent to be fed
like barn-door poultry.

Passing along the park, enter the pleasant village of Stackpool, where
the ancient lords’ vassals resided: hence descend to a vale on the right,
where a private gate leads through a woody avenue to the church of
Chereton, or Stackpool Elidur, so named from its founder.  It stands at
the head of a sequestered dell; is a plain building, with a tower;
consists of a nave and chancel, having two small aisles on the south
side.  On the north side of the chancel, under a wrought canopy of stone,
lies a cross-legged knight, said to represent Elidur de Stackpool, the
first possessor of Stackpool; the same whom Giraldus mentions, who took
the cross at the time that Archbishop Baldwin made his transit through
the country.  Ascend to St. Petroc’s, a rectory in the gift of Lord
Cawdor: the church is small, but very light and neat.  The only
conspicuous monument is a handsome mural marble tablet, to a Lady Jane
Mansell, wife first of Sir Roger Lort, and afterwards Sir Edward Mansell,
of Muddlescombe, Bart. in the county of Caermarthen.  The rectors of this
place have been observed to live to a great age.

At a short distance from Stackpool stands the chapel of St. Gowen,
situated in a fine amphitheatre of rocks, rising immediately over the
sea.  In respect to this scene, the Author of the Beauties, Harmonies,
and Sublimities of Nature, thus expresses himself:—“As for you, my
Lelius, never shall I forget your enthusiasm, when we visited the chapel
of St. Gowen, situated among those stupendous rocks, which, forming a
semicircular area towards the sea, commands a noble prospect of the coast
of Devon.  The language you employed on that interesting occasion, never
can I be so base as to forget!  ‘If our prayers are at one time more
acceptable than at another, it must assuredly be in those moments when
our souls are elevated by such scenery as this!  Often have I been awed
to devotion at Rome and at Loretto, in the presence of Canons, Bishops,
and Cardinals; but here, in the rude simplicity of nature, I feel my
spirit separate, as it were, from the tenement which has so long chained
it to the earth, and wing its course directly up to heaven!  The
magnificent area, in which this small chapel is situated, is a temple
more sublimely grand and affecting than all the mosques of Turkey, and
all the cathedrals of France, Italy, or Spain.’”

At Pembroke we hired a boat, {80a} intending to sail round the extensive
Haven of Milford; and, as we retired from the shore, we took a retrospect
of the dilapidated walls of the castle, once the terror, and even in
ruins, the pride of the scene.  It is most advisable to make this
excursion at high water, as it adds much to the picturesque scenery of
the _tout ensemble_.



MILFORD HAVEN,


is justly compared to “an immense lake; for, the mouth not being at any
distance visible, the whole haven seems land-locked.  Though it is a mile
and three quarters wide, it could not be defended against an enemy, nor
is there a sufficiency of timber in the neighbourhood. {80b}

“This haven is formed by a great advance of the sea into the land, it
being above ten miles from the southernmost point at Nangle to Pembroke,
beyond which the tide comes up to and beyond Carew Castle.  It is capable
of holding the whole navy of England; and the same is said of Cork
Harbour. {80c}  The spring tides rise thirty-six feet, the neap above
twenty-six.  Ships may be out of this haven in an hour’s time; and in
eight or ten hours over at Ireland, or the Land’s End; and this with
almost any wind, by day or night.”

“In surveying the estuary of Milford Haven,” says a writer, whom we shall
frequently have occasion to quote, “expanding into one of the finest
harbours in all Europe, and wearing the appearance of an immense lake,
sufficiently large to contain the entire navy of the British Crown,
secure from winds and tempests, and where a large fleet might manœuvre
with the greatest safety,—what ideas of power and magnificence are
awakened in the mind!  Then by a magic glance we traverse the tempestuous
Channel to the Irish coast, and call to mind the various crimes and
injuries which that ill-fated country has committed and received.
Returning to the spot whence we had travelled, beholding the creeks and
bays, the woods, and various agreeable accompaniments, which embellish
this majestic estuary; who is there that does not derive the highest
satisfaction in recalling to memory the beautiful scene in Cymbeline,
where Imogen, in the character of Fidele, has flowers sprinkled over her
grave, and a solemn dirge performed in honour of her memory?”

Our reception at the miserable place of



HUBBERSTON


did not induce us to stay longer than was sufficient to recruit
ourselves.  We found the dirty inn pre-occupied by unfortunate Irish
refugees: their situation was indeed melancholy; driven from their
country, their friends, and all most dear to them!—And wishing to forget
their past sufferings, the following lines seem applicable to their
situation:

    “Oh! could oblivion’s friendly draught
       Soothe all our sorrows to repose;
    Nor that intruder, restless thought,
       Renew our agonizing woes!

    “Then, all unconscious of the past,
       The present hour might calmly glide;
    Keen retrospect no more be cast
       O’er life’s tempestuous, changeful tide:

    “Yet Heaven, to all its creatures kind,
       With peace can gild the deepest gloom;
    And, ’mid misfortune’s wrecks, the mind
       May sweet serenity assume.”

Having refreshed ourselves, we walked to



MILFORD,


a small village, opposite Hubberston: several comfortable houses are
situated on the hill, commanding a delightful view of the haven.  Such
was Milford when originally described in this work: but it now ranks as a
town of some consequence in Wales.  The haven, from its extent and
safety, held forth such great inducements to improve the vicinity, and
gradually to raise it into consequence as a sea-port, that the Right Hon.
Charles Greville, whose property it became on the death of Sir W.
Hamilton, obtained an Act of Parliament for the building of the town, and
the privileges it was to enjoy.  After having selected the situation,
which is one of the finest parts of the haven, Mr. G. laid down the
ground-plan of the streets: the principal ones run in parallel lines east
and west, and in the direction of the shore, with short streets of
communication intersecting them at right angles.  The houses are
generally good, and many calculated for the residence of opulent
families.

The church is near the haven, at the east end of the lowest street.  The
windows contain the arms of Hamilton, Barlow, and Greville.  The tower,
at the west end of the edifice, is very conspicuous in sailing up the
haven.  The custom-house is at the lower end of the town, by the water
side.  The dock-yards are immediately in front of the town: they are
calculated for the building of line-of-battle ships, as well as frigates:
it was formed after a plan by Lord Spencer.  Packets are stationed here
under excellent regulations, for the conveyance of the mails and
passengers to Waterford.

The mail from London arrives here every evening, and departs in the
morning.  Markets are held on Tuesdays and Saturdays.

To the west of Milford is Priory Pill, on the opposite bank of which is
Haking, or Old Milford.  Wet docks were about to be established on this
creek, but the design was abandoned.  Between Haking and Hubberstone is
the observatory and mathematical school.  Being satisfied with our day’s
excursion, we again returned to our comfortable quarters at Tenby, which
we left with regret a few days afterwards.

We again pursued the Pembroke road; and, about two miles from Tenby, the
neglected walls of



CAREW CASTLE


invited curiosity;—and,

    “Deep struck with awe, we mark’d the dome o’erthrown,
    Where once the beauty bloom’d, the warrior shone:
    We saw the castle’s mouldering tow’rs decay’d,
    The loose stone tott’ring o’er the trembling shade.”

This castle, once the residence of the famous Sir Rhys ap Thomas, I
imagine, was intended more for a noble residence than a place of defence.
The walls of this building are very thick, and constructed with stones of
a large size, strongly cemented with mortar.  It is situated on a branch
of Milford Haven, and consists of a range of apartments built round a
quadrangle, with a circular tower at each corner.  The south wall is
entirely demolished; but the north consists of a spacious hall, measuring
one hundred and two feet by twenty, supposed to have been built by Sir
John Perrot: above and under this hall are noble apartments and extensive
offices.  This castle appears to have been erected at different times, if
we may judge from the architecture.  Every ledge of the walls of the
towers, denoting the different stories, was embossed with vegetation,
which seemed to grow from the solid stone.  Over the gate-way, at the
west side, are the arms of England, Duke of Lancaster, and Carew; and
contiguous to this entrance is another spacious room, measuring eighty
feet by thirty.

The village of Carew is poor: there is, by the side of the road, a cross,
fashioned out of a single stone, fourteen feet high, and carved all over.

Leaving Carew, we crossed a small bridge over an arm of Milford Haven,
and continued our route across a barren and uninteresting heath; till,
descending to the village of



CRESSELEY,


the luxuriant plantation of firs, belonging to Sir William Hamilton,
attracted our attention.  Small vessels constantly frequent this quay,
from whence a quantity of small coal is shipped to different parts.  From
hence the road is extremely barren and unpicturesque; but, about three
miles from



LANDSHIPPING,


an arm of Milford Haven again burst upon our sight.  Near it is situated
the uninhabited house of Sir William Owen.  In crossing the ferry, Picton
Castle, the property of Lord Milford, formed a prominent feature in the
gay scene; and Slebitch, the seat of Mr. Philips, standing at the end of
the Haven, contributes considerably to this picturesque prospect.  The
grounds of



PICTON,


through which we passed, about five miles in extent, seemed to be well
planned, and kept in excellent order.  This castle has always been
inhabited; and, having escaped the fate of all other castles in Wales,
during the civil wars, it retained, till very late, much of its original
external form.

Mr. Fenton’s description of this noble spot is so correct and energetic,
that I shall, in justice to him, as well as to Picton, here insert it.
“Picton castle owes its beauties to circumstances that wealth cannot
supply, or titles confer; circumstances that age, and an unbroken line of
ancestry in its possessors, have given value to, and have made venerable;
an ancient structure, that nothing can so much disfigure as an attempt to
modernize, and make less so;—a castle (and I believe a solitary instance)
never forfeited, never deserted, never vacant; and that never knew a
melancholy blank in its want of a master; from whose walls hospitality
was never exiled, and whose governors might be said to have been
hereditary; a castle in the midst of possessions and forests coeval with
itself, and proudly looking down over a spacious domain, on woods of
every after-growth, to an inland sea, bounding its property and its
prospects beyond them; for such is Picton Castle.”

The ground plan occupies an oblong area, having three large projecting
bastions on each side.  At the east end was the grand gate, with a
portcullis between two similar bastions: this, without any injury to the
general aspect, has yielded to a modern entrance, as have the moat and
drawbridge, to a terrace, with an open parapet: the additions at the west
end are not so fortunate: they injure the appearance, but add to the
comforts of the castle, as a modern residence; affording Lord Milford
more ample scope for that noble hospitality which he so liberally
exercises according to the usage of his ancestors.

Lord Milford possesses a fine cabinet of drawings by eminent masters,
collected in Italy by Sir Erasmus Phillips, his uncle.  The park is well
wooded, but destitute of deer.  The gardens, forcing-houses, &c. &c. are
very extensive, and in high order.

A beautiful walk, which passes near the old encampment, called Castle
Lake, leads to Slebech, an ancient commandery of the Knights of St. John
of Jerusalem, but neither trace nor vestige of the old commandery are now
to be found.  The church is ancient and respectable, but not large; it
contains two figures in alabaster, believed to be of the Barlow family.

Returning again to Picton, at the extremity of the park, a good turnpike
road soon conducted us to



HAVERFORDWEST,


which is considered as one of the largest towns in South Wales.  It is
very irregularly built, on the declivity of a hill, which is in some
parts so very steep, that the ground-rooms frequently overlook the
neighbouring roofs; yet there are some good houses.  It is considered as
a county of itself, and sends one member to parliament.  The town was
formerly fortified by a strong wall, or rampart, on the western summit;
the shell of a once extensive castle is still remaining; this is now
converted into a gaol.

The parade, commanding a cheerful view of the neighbouring country, and
the ruins of an ancient abbey, extends for a considerable way by the side
of a hill.  At the extremity of this walk stand the ruins of an ancient
priory of black canons; the remains are now very inconsiderable, but we
easily traced the chapel, over one end of which is an arch, still in good
preservation, and beautifully enwreathed with a rich drapery of ivy.

The castle, which was built by Gilbert de Clare, first Earl of Pembroke,
was a strong edifice; but the keep now only remains; and that has been
converted into a gaol.  From its elevated situation, it has a commanding
appearance, and an air of ruined grandeur, more interesting than the
proudest modern edifice can boast.

Haverford is called by the Welsh Hwlfordh. {88a}  Having finished our
survey of Haverford, we started early the next morning, proposing to
breakfast at



NEWGIN BRIDGE,


where we understood we should meet with every thing comfortable; but, to
our disappointment, we found a most miserable, dirty pot-house, destitute
of even the common comforts of life.  I recollected Shenstone’s
complimentary lines on an inn, but could not apply them on the present
occasion:

    “Whoe’er has travell’d life’s dull round,
       Where’er his stages may have been,
    May sigh to think that he has found
       The warmest welcome at an inn.” {88b}

The road from Haverford to Newgin we found very uninteresting; and the
shell of



ROACH CASTLE.


did not detain us long.  It stands on a rocky eminence, now completely in
ruins, with only one tower remaining.  “Roach Castle,” says Leland, “in
Rouseland, to the right of the road to St. David’s, shews a round and
some double out-works, visible at a great distance.  It belonged to the
Lords Ferrars, and old Langeville, Knt. of Bucks.”

In descending the hill to Newgin, the dark lowering rocks, which form
that fine bay, called St. Bride’s, exhibited a grand prospect.  In the
centre of this bay is situated Newgin, bounded on the south by the island
of Skomar, and on the north by Ramsay.  The fields adjacent to this place
have been frequently inundated by extraordinary overflowings of the sea:
at the reflux of the tide, the sands admit of most excellent walking.

The saunter from hence to the city of



ST. DAVID’S,


now properly deserving the name of a village, was rather more captivating
than our walk before breakfast: it was occasionally enlivened by the
prospect of the wide ocean, boundless to our view on one side, whilst
before us the fantastic shapes of the rocks off St. David’s Head
exhibited Nature in her most awful and striking attitudes.  Above the
rest, Caern Thydy lifted its bold promontory, as if to give effect to the
true landscape.  About half way between Newgin and St. David’s, the
beautiful little village of Solva unexpectedly burst upon our view,
studded with neat white-washed cottages, and enclosed on each side with
lofty rocks, which here form a picturesque and interesting chasm.  These
rocks, indeed, I could almost imagine were torn asunder by some
convulsive rent of the earth.  The cathedral, and dilapidated ruins of
the episcopal palace, are situated at the bottom of a steep hill, and
scarcely visible in the town: these, and the prebendal houses, were
formerly enclosed by a strong stone wall, with four gates, computed at
eleven hundred yards in circuit.  David, {90} the national saint of
Wales, with the consent of King Arthur, is said to have removed the
metropolitan see from Caerleon to Menevia, which has ever since been
called Ty Dewi by the Welsh, and St. David by the English.  What were the
condition and extent of this town formerly it is difficult to say, having
been so frequently destroyed.  At present it is a very small city, and
has nothing to boast but its ruined palace and old cathedral, dedicated
to St. Andrew and St. David, which has often been demolished; but
rebuilt, in its present form, by Bishop Peter, according to Giraldus, in
the reign of King Henry II.; or, as Willis, in the year 1110, in Rhos
Vale, below the town.  It is still esteemed a noble pile, consisting of
two transepts, measuring in length, from east to west, three hundred
feet; and the body, with the aisles, seventy-six feet broad.

Behind the choir is a most beautiful chapel, with a rich roof of carved
stone, built by Vaughan, in the time of King Henry VIII., as a kind of
presbytery, between the choir and Lady Chapel.  In the last, whose roof,
as well as those of the aisles of the choir and transepts, has been down
ever since the civil war, are monuments of three bishops, and in the
nave, &c. four or five more.  In the north wall of the choir is the
shrine of St. David; a kind of altar tomb, with a canopy of four pointed
arches, and in front four quatrefoil holes, into which the votaries put
their offerings, which were taken out by the monks at two iron doors
behind.  In the choir are also the monuments of Owen Tudor, second
husband of Queen Catharine, Rhys ap Tudor, {91a}  Bishops Jorweth and
Anselm, in the thirteenth century, and Edmund, Earl of Richmond, father
of King Henry VII.  This last monument is said to have prevented King
Henry VIII. from removing the see to Caermarthen.  Giraldus Cambrensis,
who was archdeacon of Brecon, canon of Hereford, and rector of
Chesterton, Oxford, was buried here in 1213. {91b}  On the north side of
the church are some walls of St. Mary’s College, founded by Bishop
Houghton, and John of Gaunt, in 1365, valued at one hundred and six
pounds per annum. {91c}

It is much to be regretted, that so little regard has been paid to the
internal appearance of this noble pile; the whole of it has lately been
white-washed, which gives it too much the air of a modern building: the
external part, I am sorry to add, has been equally neglected; and the
chapels and monuments exposed to the wanton mischief of boys and idle
people.  The stone, likewise, with which it is built, is of so soft a
substance, that it even moulders with the touch of the finger; but
possibly it may, by being exposed to the air, like the Bath stone, become
more solid; and, when by time it shall have acquired a darker hue, may
then better correspond with the original building.

The Bishop’s Palace now stands a monument of desolation; and as we walked
over the loose fragments of stone, which are scattered through the
immense area of the fabric, the images of former times rose to
reflection,—when the spacious hall stood proudly in its original
splendor; when the long aisles of the chapel were only responsive to the
solemn, slow-breathed chant.  In this palace is a very long room,
purposely erected for the reception of King John: at the extremity of it
is a circular window, of very elegant and curious workmanship.

According to Le Neve, Dubritius, Archbishop of Caerleon, is called by
this title, as Archbishop of Wales, at the first establishment of the
Christian religion in the British islands.  Godwin fixes no time of his
coming in, but only says, that he, waxing old, resigned his see to David,
a disciple of his; that he died, and was buried in the isle of Bardsee,
Nov. 14, 522.

David removed the see, as before stated, from Caerleon to Menevia; and,
by the time Godwin allows him to sit, viz. sixty-five years, and to die
in 642, we may suppose he came in in 577.  It is said he lived to a great
age, viz. 146 years; and, dying in 642, as is aforesaid, was buried in
the cathedral which himself had caused to be built; and his successors
shewed so great a respect to his memory, as to call the see by his name,
which it still retains, they for a long time afterwards styling
themselves Archbishops of St. David’s; of these (including David) there
were twenty-five, with Sampson, who, by reason of a contagious sickness
in his diocese, retiring into Bretagne, and taking his pall with him, his
successors, either for want of that, or by some other occasion, lost
their title of Archbishop; but yet for several years they held the
archiepiscopal power of consecrating bishops, which was exercised under
twenty-two of them, down to Bishop Bernard, who was consecrated in 1115.
He, by command of King Henry I., resigned this power to the see of
Canterbury.  From this period, down to the time of Bishop Vaughan, it had
many benefactors; amongst whom, as most prominent, stand the names of
Peter de Leia, Bishops Gervase, Beck, Martin, Gower, and Vaughan.

“During this interval,” says Mr. Rees, “St. David’s acquired the highest
celebrity; and the shrine of the founder was resorted to by the greatest
monarchs of the age.  In the list of these royal visitors are to be
included the names of William the Conqueror, who made his pilgrimage in
1079; King Henry the Second, who honoured Bishop David Fitzgerald with
his company in 1171; and King Edward the First, and Eleanor his queen,
who made their pilgrimage in 1284, when Bishop Beck held the see.  The
pilgrims of inferior rank who resorted here were innumerable, and their
offerings served greatly to enrich the ecclesiastics, who spared no pains
to enhance the merit of the penance, by which the poor votaries thus
soothed their consciences, and emptied their pockets.” {94}

Giraldus gives us a true description of the country round St. David’s,
representing it as “a stony, barren, unimprovable territory, undecked
with woods, undivided by rivers, unadorned with meadows, exposed only to
wind and storm.”  Such, indeed, is the state and situation of St.
David’s; and, the environs having no hedges to divide the property of the
farmers, the sheep, and even the geese, are all tethered together.

In this now dilapidated city was born Asserius, Bishop of Sherbourne, who
wrote a life of King Alfred, and is supposed to have been instrumental in
inducing that Prince to found the University of Oxford.

The walk to St. David’s Head, though barren, represents a view striking
and awful; sublimity gives place to elegance: yet what is it to view?—a
boundless waste of ocean;—not a glimpse of smiling nature,—not a patch of
vegetation, to relieve the aching sight, or vary the objects of
admiration.  The rocks on this shore are shaken into every possible shape
of horror; and, in many parts, resemble the convulsions of an earthquake,
splintered, shivered, and amassed.  On these rocks stood the famous
rocking stone, or _Y mean sigl_; which, “though twenty yoke of oxen could
not move it, might be shaken with the slightest touch.”  We understand it
was thrown off its balance, by order of the farmer, to prevent the
curious from trampling on his grounds.  “A mile straight west from St.
David’s, betwixt Portclais and Porthmaur,” {95} is the shell of Capel
Stinen, St. Stinan’s or St. Justinian’s chapel.

From this spot is an extensive view of Whitsand Bay, called by the Welsh
_Porth Maur_, or the Great Bay; in which stand the six rocks, called the
Bishop and his Clerks.  Half a league from hence is



RAMSEY ISLE,


half a mile long, and three quarters broad, and divided into two
considerable farms.  The whole island is well stocked with rabbits; and,
during the spring, the Razorbill, Puffin, and Harry birds, resort here in
flocks.  It has undergone many changes from the continual wearing of the
waves.  There is a tradition, that the embarkation for Ireland anciently
took place at Ramsey; but sailors doubt the truth of this circumstance,
from the circumstances of the tides.  Our walk from St. David’s to



FISHGUARD


afforded us little room for observation; the eye, however, kept in view a
wide range of the unbounded ocean; till, dim with exertion, it by degrees
reposed on the dark lowering rocks, which, disregarding the angry roar of
the waves, seemed to project their broad sides, to augment the idle
tumult.  Quitting the turnpike road, in search of the place where the
French effected their landing, in the year 1797, we passed a neat house,
called Caergwent, belonging to Mrs. Harris.  The kind attentions of a
farmer, in the neighbourhood of this memorable spot, claim our warmest
acknowledgments.  Having finished a most comfortable meal at Mr.
Mortimer’s house (which, during the confusion, was considered the
head-quarters of the French, commanded by General Tate), he explained all
the minutiæ respecting this circumstance; and very obligingly pointed out
the situation of their camp, and related many entertaining and
interesting anecdotes.  Deeply impressed with gratitude towards Mr. M.
for his civilities, we soon arrived at Goodric sands.  This spot was very
judiciously selected by Lord Cawdor, as a proper place for the French to
lay down their arms; for, had they resisted, a cannonade of grape-shot,
from a neighbouring fortress, would have instantly played upon them.
Fishguard stands on a steep rock, with a convenient harbour, formed by
the river Gwain; though its situation and bay are interesting, it is by
no means a desirable place to remain long at.

Several druidical monuments {96} engaged our attention, as we drew near



NEWPORT,


called by Giraldus, Llanhever, or the Town on the river Nevern.  The
fragments of the castle are too insignificant to invite the curiosity of
the passing traveller: it was demolished by Llewellyn, Prince of South
Wales, when possessed by the Flemings.

The country beyond Newport presented a more pleasing countenance: wood,
water, hill, and vale, all unite, even to induce the plodding citizen to
pause, and wish to spend the evening of his days in the vicinity of its
enchantment.  In this interesting situation we found the village of
Velindre:—we here particularly observed the slaty quality of the hills,
and could not avoid condemning the folly of the inhabitants of Velindre
in building their cottages of mud, and sparingly covering them with
straw, when Nature herself seemed to place comforts, if not luxuries,
before their view.  But, perhaps, these reproaches were ill-grounded; for
thus veiled in obscurity, they were happy, as they knew not enough of the
world seriously to regret the want of these conveniences: their
situation, indeed, seemed to verify the philosophical sentiment of Gray:

    “Since ignorance is bliss,
    ’Tis folly to be wise.”

For though they suffer the extremes of filth and penury, yet they enjoy
the two inestimable blessings, health and felicity.  The broken towers of



KILGERRAN CASTLE


soon attracted our notice.  The relics of this ruin stand on a point of
rock, impending over the river Tyvi, whose beauty time had only impaired
to heighten its grandeur.  Two imperfect circular towers, and the
fragments of a wall, now only remain.

The river Tyvi, I imagine, abounds with fish, as we observed at every
door in the village of Kilgerran a coracle. {98}  The construction of
this little water conveyance is remarkably simple, and intended solely
for the use of fishing: a thick skin, or coarse pitched canvas, is
stretched over wicker-work.  This singular fishing-boat conveys only one
man, who manages it with the greatest adroitness imaginable; the right
hand being employed in using the paddle, the left in conducting the net,
and the teeth in holding the line.  Two coracles generally co-operate, to
assist each other in fishing: they usually measure about five feet long,
and four broad, and are rounded at the corners; and, after the labours of
the day, are conveyed on their backs to the little cots of the fishermen,
being looked upon as a necessary appendage to the cottage door.

Description can scarcely suggest the full magnificence and beauty of the
saunter from hence to Cardigan: the valley, about two miles in extent,
seemed to possess all that nature inherits; sloping hills, two hundred
feet high, covered with wood, from the water’s edge to their highest
summit, and at the most acceptable distances, and truly happy situations,
interrupted by a bold, naked, and projecting rock; whilst the broad and
translucid stream of the Tyvi reflects, as in a mirror, the blackness of
the impending shades.  The retrospect commands the romantic ruins of
Kilgerran castle, whose mutilated walls close this delicious landscape.
The whole valley bears a strong resemblance to the situation of the
celebrated Piercefield.  As this spot is entirely lost by keeping the
turnpike road, it is advisable for travellers in general, to hire a boat
from Cardigan to Kilgerran: this our humble and less encumbered mode of
travelling rendered unnecessary.

Near Kilgerran are Castle Maelgyn, and Pentre, the seat of Dr. Davies;
both handsome modern mansions, surrounded by pleasing gardens and
plantations.

At Lechryd, not far from Kilgerran, extensive tin-works are carried on by
Sir Benjamin Hamet.  Having already examined works of this nature at
Neath, we preferred the romantic vale of Kilgerran; as to accomplish both
would have occupied too much time.  We entered the town of



CARDIGAN


over a handsome stone bridge, built over the Tyvi, which is here of
considerable width.  In front of this stands, on a steep eminence, the
castle, consisting chiefly of its outer walls, which prove it to have
been once a considerable building.  This place, considered the principal
town of the county, is called by the Britons Aberteivi; which name it
receives from standing near the mouth of the river Tyvi.  It was
fortified, together with the castle, by Gilbert, son of Richard Clare,
and demolished by Rhees ap Gryffith.

Cardigan had once a strong castle; but it was destroyed in the civil
wars, and an elegant mansion erected on its site by Mr. Bowen: the
cellars of which were anciently the dungeons of the keep.  At the end of
the bridge is a chapel, said to be erected on the spot where Giraldus
preached the Crusade.

The town is large and regular; its chief trade consisting in lead,
exported to Ireland.  It sends one member to Parliament, and gives the
title of Earl to the family of Brudenell.  The Church is large, and well
built, with a handsome tower.  The new gaol, finished in the year 1797,
is conveniently situated, and appears to be a well-planned building.  One
mile from Cardigan is



ST. DOGMAEL’S ABBEY,


called, by Leland, {101} a “Priory of Bonhommes.”  The Monasticon places
this house amongst the Benedictines; but it was that strict and reformed
sort of Benedictines, called the Order of Tiron, founded by Martin of
Tours, who conquered the country of Cemmeis, about the time of King
William the Conqueror.  Part of the ruins is now converted into a chapel,
for the convenience of the vicinity.  St. Dogmael’s is now a mere fishing
village.

At the second mile-stone, in our road from Cardigan to the village of



LLANARTH,


we halted a short time, to take a retrospect of the country we had
passed.  From this spot, the town and castle of Cardigan, standing on an
eminence, in the centre of a broad valley, and encircled with hills,
beautifully introduced themselves to our view.  From hence to



ABERAERON,


grand sea prospects continued to enliven our route;—whilst the faint and
still fainter hues of the coast of Ireland appeared just visibly skirting
the distant horizon.  Aberaeron is situated in a vale, near the conflux
of the river Aeron with the sea: from whence it receives its name; Aber
signifying the mouth of any thing.

The entrenchment, mentioned by Sael, in his Collection of Tours, about a
mile from Aberaeron, is now almost washed away by daily encroachments of
the sea.  We lamented that the druidical sepulchral monuments, mentioned
by the same author, were inadvertently passed unnoticed by us.

In this day’s journey we still continued to indulge the sublime emotions,
which an unconfined view of the ocean always inspires; a serene day, with
partial gleams of sunshine, gave magical effects to the scenery; and the
sea was enlivened with many a vessel, passing each other in various
directions, and contributing to render the terrific ocean beautiful.
Before us, the towering mountains of Merionethshire glittered in all
those colours of beauty, which constitute the sublime; and we appeared
only to climb one hill to view others still rising in endless
perspective: over the whole was diffused the rich glow of evening; and
the distant mountains were variegated by the parting tinge of lingering
day.  A neat Church, backed by romantic hills, animated the village of
Llanrysted.  Three miles from



ABERYSTWITH,


we paused at Llanryan bridge, to admire the rich banks rising on each
side of the river Ystwith, over which this bridge is thrown; it is built
in the style of the celebrated Pont-y-prid, in the vale of
Glamorganshire.  We entered the town of Aberystwith over a temporary
wooden bridge. {102}  In the year 1796, a stone bridge experienced the
same fate with many others in Wales, occasioned by a sudden thaw: Mr.
Edwards, from Dolgelly, has lately erected another, by contract,
consisting of six arches.

Aberystwith, partaking much of the dirt of seaports in general, is
situated at the termination of the vale of Rhyddol, in the bay of
Cardigan, and open to St. George’s Channel.  The environs are stony and
rugged; the coast affords indifferent bathing, being much exposed; and
the shore is rough and unpleasant.  In fine, it is, in almost all
respects, the reverse of Tenby, except it has the advantage in the number
of houses, and, consequently, more company.  At the extremity of the
town, upon an eminence, stand the ruins of an ancient castle, of which
little now remains but a solitary tower, overlooking a wide expanse of
sea.  It was rendered famous, by being, at one time, the residence of the
great Cadwalader, and in all the Welsh wars was considered as a fortress
of great strength: it was built by Gilbert Strongbow, in the year 1107,
and rebuilt by King Edward I. in 1277, a few years before his complete
conquest of Wales.  The ruin of the castle now affords a pleasant walk.

At this castle Edmund Goodere, Esq. farmer of the mines royal in the
county of Cardigan, had letters patent, 13th of Charles I., to erect a
mint for coinage of such silver as was raised from the said mines royal
in Wales; but the castle and houses for the mint were destroyed by the
civil war.  On the 6th of March, 1646, on his petition to this effect,
the smelting house, near the refining mills, was appropriated by
Parliament to this purpose, till the castle should be refitted.

But what formerly rendered this town more considerable, were the rich
lead mines in its vicinity.  These mines are said to have yielded near a
hundred ounces of silver from a ton of lead, and to have produced a
profit of two thousand pounds a month.  Sir Hugh Middleton here made the
vast fortune, which he afterwards expended on the New River, constructed
for the purpose of supplying the northern side of London with water.  But
Thomas Bushell raised these mines to their greatest height: an indenture
was granted to him by King Charles I. for the coining of silver pieces,
to be stamped with ostrich feathers on both sides, for the benefit of
paying his workmen.  This gentleman was afterwards appointed governor of
Lundy Isle.  The most considerable lead mine was that of
Bwlch-yr-Eskir-his, discovered in the year 1690.  The ore was here so
near the surface, that the moss and grass in some places scarcely covered
it. {104}

Close to the site of the old castle, Mr. Uvedale Price, of Foxley, in
Herefordshire, has erected a fantastic house in the castellated form,
intended merely as a summer residence.

Aberystwith has of late years been in all respects greatly improved; for
being the principal place of summer resort for bathing and pleasure from
North Wales and the adjacent English counties, every inducement has been
held forth that could attract company from its new competitors: the roads
are now good, and the inns and accommodations excellent.  The population
consists of 2,397 persons.

The bathing is well conducted, and although the beach, as at most of our
watering places, is formed of pebbles, still there are generally good
sands to bathe on at all hours of the tide.  During the season assemblies
are held here as at Brighton, Ramsgate, and other English sea-bathing
places.  Formerly, the town-hall likewise served as a theatre, but
another building has now been erected for that purpose.  Notwithstanding
Aberystwith is prevented by the sand bar at the entrance from receiving
vessels of large tonnage, still its trade is considerable and increasing,
carried on by vessels from 250 tons burthen down to 18.

Mr. Meyrick’s remarks with respect to this port are perfectly correct.
“Were two piers made on those ridges of the rock called the Wey, which
afford the strongest foundations, the harbour would be handsome,
capacious, and convenient.  Besides, by cutting a passage across the road
to the north of the town, and carrying it along the marsh into the sea,
for the Rhyddol, just at the angle it makes when it takes a south-west
course, an excellent back-water would be at hand, and would clear away
any bar that might be formed at the mouth of the harbour, and keep it
free from mud.”

It has two markets in the week; Monday for butter, &c., and Saturday for
meat, besides which, it is generally well supplied with fish, with which
it furnishes the interior of the country as far as Shrewsbury and
Worcester.  The views from the castle and cliffs, not only over Cardigan
Bay, but over the cloud-capped summits of Cader Idris and Snowdon, are
extensive and sublime.

We determined to pursue the banks of the meandering Rhyddol, in
preference to the turnpike road, in our way to Havod.

This valley comprehends every thing that constitutes the beautiful; it is
enclosed by high mountains on each side, vegetating to their summits;
indeed, all the tints of verdure and diversity of foliage here introduced
themselves in one view; the Rhyddol struggling with the huge masses of
rock,—its never-ceasing, tumultuous motion,—its sparkling foam;—in fine,
every thing that can be imagined, by the most enthusiastic admirer of
nature, is blended in this short excursion:—

    —“_is not this vale_
    More free from peril than the envious courts?
    Here feel we but the penalty of Adam,
    The season’s difference, as the icy fang
    And churlish chiding of the winter’s wind.”

                                                               SHAKSPEARE.

“The vale of Rhyddol,” says Mr. Gilpin, “is a very grand and extensive
scene, continuing not less than ten miles, among rocks, hanging woods,
and varied ground, which, in some parts, become mountainous: while the
river is every where a beautiful object; and twice or three times, in its
passage through the vale, is interrupted in its course, and formed into a
cascade.  This is a circumstance in a _vale_, I think, rather uncommon.
In a contracted _valley_ it is frequent: but _an extended vale_ is seldom
so interrupted as not to give way to the river on one side or the other.”

To the inquisitive pedestrian (for this vale is inaccessible for
carriages), the old Church of Llanbadem Vawr, which signifies the Church
of Great Paternus, a native of Bretagne, is particularly interesting;
who, as the writer of his life expresses it, “by feeding governed, and by
governing fed the Church of Cretica.”  To his memory this Church, and
formerly an episcopal see was founded; but the bishopric, as Roger
Hovedon writes, “early declined, because the parishioners slew their
pastor.” {107}  As we draw near the



DEVIL’S BRIDGE,


a long chain of mountains excited our admiration, encircled half way down
with a thick mist, similar in appearance to a girdle: this circumstance
seems to justify the bold imagery and beautiful description of a mountain
given by the Poet:

    “As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form,
    Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm;
    Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread,
    Eternal sunshine settles on its head.”

                                                                GOLDSMITH.

The comfortable inn, situated near this romantic spot, stands in front of
the River Rhyddol, and commanding the most picturesque view fancy can
paint, was built by the respectable and truly hospitable owner of Havod.

This celebrated Bridge, so much the object of curiosity and admiration,
is so completely environed with trees, that many travellers, not intent
upon deep investigation, or in pursuit of Nature’s landscapes, may pass
over it without the least suspicion of the dreadful aperture, or the
ancient structure that conveys them over the gulf.  On the eastern side
we descended a deep and treacherous bank, consisting of slate rock, or
laminac, I should imagine, near an hundred feet: this is the computed
measurement; but the eye, confused by the awfulness of the scene, loses
its faculty of judging.  From this spot the vast chine, or chasm over
which the bridge is thrown, is seen to great advantage.  The whole of
this fissure was probably occasioned by some convulsion of Nature, as
each indenture seems to correspond with the opposite protuberance.  Under
the bridge the river Mynach, in its confined course, meeting with
obstructions of massy rock, and fragments of prodigious size, rushes
through the chasm with irresistible violence.

This bridge is called in Welsh Pont-ar Fynach, or Mynach Bridge; it
consists of two arches, one thrown over the other.  The foundation of the
under one is of great antiquity, and vulgarly attributed to the invention
of the Devil; it is supposed to have been erected as far back as the year
1087, in the reign of King William II., by the Monks of Strata Florida
Abbey, the ruins of which are still visible, about ten miles from hence.
Gerald mentions his passing over it, when he accompanied Baldwin,
Archbishop of Canterbury, at the time of the Crusades, in the year 1188,
and in the reign of King Richard I.  The original arch being suspected to
be in a ruinous condition, the present bridge was built over it, at the
expense of the county, in the year 1753.  The width of the chasm is
estimated at about thirty feet.

Our Cicerone first conducted us to a fall on the river Rhyddol,
unobserved in Walker’s Description of the Devil’s Bridge, and unnoticed
by Warner.  The character of this fall is remarkably singular: a huge
fragment of rock, projecting over the river for a considerable way,
precipitates the water in a singular and almost inexpressible direction:
the rocks are occasionally variegated by the dark foliage of underwood,
and sometimes barren, rugged, and impending.

Description cannot suggest the full magnificence of the prospect which
spread before us, on our arrival at the grand Fall of the Mynach; for
though it may paint the grandeur of the elegance of outline, yet it
cannot equal the archetypes of Nature, or draw the minute features, that
reward the actual observer at every new choice of his position: reviewing
this thundering cataract, in the leisure of recollection, these nervous
lines of Thomson seem to describe much of the scene:

    “Smooth to the shelving brink a copious flood
    Rolls fair and placid, where collected all
    In one impetuous torrent, down the steep
    It thundering shoots, and shakes the country round.
    At first an azure sheet, it rushes broad;
    Then whitening by degrees, as prone it falls,
    And from the loud resounding rocks below
    Dash’d in a cloud of foam, it sends aloft
    A hoary mist, and forms a ceaseless shower.
    Nor can the tortured wave here find repose:
    But raging still amid the shaggy rocks,
    Now flashes o’er the scatter’d fragments, now
    Aslant the hollow channel rapid darts;
    And falling fast from gradual slope to slope,
    With wild infracted course and lessen’d roar,
    It gains a safer bed, and steals at last
    Along the mazes of the quiet vale.”

The following table, taken from Walker’s Description of the Devil’s
Bridge, gives the exact height from the top of the bridge to the water
underneath; and the different falls from thence till the Mynach delivers
itself into the Rhyddol below.


FALLS, &c.

                                        Feet
From the bridge to the water             114
   First fall                             18
   Second ditto                           60
   Third ditto                            20
   Grand cataract                        110
From the bridge to the Rhyddol           322

The rocks on each side of the fall rise perpendicularly to the height of
eight hundred feet, and are finely clothed with the richest vegetation to
the loftiest summit.

Near the basin of the first fall from the bridge we entered a dark
cavern, formerly inhabited by a set of robbers, two brothers and a
sister, called Plant Mat, or Plant Hat, signifying Matthew’s Children.
Tradition reports, that they committed various depredations in the
neighbourhood, and lived concealed in this “specus horrendum” for many
years, from the keen research of “day’s garish eye.”  The entrance just
admits sufficient light to make “darkness visible.”

With regret we left this romantic spot; where, if retirement ever had
“local habitation,” this was her “place of dearest residence.”  “One
excursion,” says Mr. Cumberland, “to this place, will not suffice common
observers; nor indeed many, to the lovers of the grand sports of Nature.”
“The Mynach,” in another place he describes, “coming down from beneath
the Devil’s Bridge, has no equal for height or beauty that I know of;
for, although a streamlet to the famous fall of Narni in Italy, yet it
rivals it in height, and surpasses it in elegance.

“After passing deep below the bridge, as through a narrow firth, with
noises loud and ruinous, into a confined chasm, the fleet waters pour
headlong and impetuous, and leaping from rock to rock, with fury
literally lash the mountain’s sides; sometimes almost imbowered among
deep groves, and flashing at last into a fanlike form, the fall rattling
among the loose stones of the Devil’s Hole—where, to all appearance, it
shoots into a gulf beneath, and silently steals away: for so much is
carried off in spray, during the incessant repercussions it experiences,
in this long tortuous shoot, that in all probability, not half the water
arrives at the bottom of its found and sullen grave.”

Four miles from hence, on the Llandiloe’s road, is situated



HAVOD or HAFOD,


the celebrated seat of the late Mr. Johnes.  The former part of the road
is barren and uninteresting; but, on our first entrance into the grounds,
all our past complaints were lost in expressions of admiration.  “A
philosopher has said,” says a modern Tourist, “that the man, who makes
two blades of grass grow, where only one grew before, is greater than the
greatest hero.  If this be true, Mr. Johnes must rank before all the
conquerors of the world, as he has made the barren wilderness around him
to smile, and converted the worthless heath into waving woods, luxuriant
corn-fields, and pastures.”  From October 1795, to April 1801, Mr. Johnes
planted more than 2,065,000 trees; besides a great number of acres, that
he sowed with acorns.  Since this period the plantations have been
extended on the same scale with equal spirit; from one to two hundred
thousand trees being planted every year.  The Mansion is a very elegant
piece of architecture, built of Portland stone, and the plan entirely
novel, being a mixture of the Moorish and Gothic, with turrets and
painted windows.  The whole of it indeed does great credit to the
architect, Mr. Baldwyn of Bath.  It is situated near the banks of the
river Ystwith, and beautifully environed by lofty hills, clothed with
oak.  The interior of the house corresponds in elegance with the
exterior.

From the hall we were conducted through a suite of elegant apartments,
very judiciously fitted up with paintings, statues, and antiques; but the
Library more particularly engaged our notice, containing a choice and
valuable collection of books: this octagonal room is built in the form of
a dome with a gallery round it, supported by a colonnade of variegated
marble pillars of the ancient Doric order, with a circular window at top
for the admission of light.  We entered through a handsome door, inlaid
with a large reflecting mirror: immediately opposite is another door of
transparent plate-glass, leading to the conservatory, three hundred feet
in length, and containing a number of curious and rare exotics, with a
walk down the centre of the building.  In fine, the effect of the _tout
ensemble_ can better be imagined than described.

Amongst the other things worthy of admiration, a handsome statue, in the
library, of Thetis dipping Achilles in the river Styx, more particularly
detains attention.  We next passed through the Billiard-room, and were
conducted to the top of the staircase, to admire two elegant paintings,
the subjects taken from Captain Cook’s Voyages: the painter is unknown.
Many of the rooms are beautifully furnished with rich Gobelin tapestry.

To give my readers a just conception of the beauties of Havod, I shall
beg leave to borrow the elegant description of it, drawn by the pen of
Mr. Cumberland.

    “Havod is a place in itself so pre-eminently beautiful, that it
    highly merits a particular description.  It stands surrounded with so
    many noble scenes, diversified with elegance as well as with
    grandeur; the country on the approach to it is so very wild and
    uncommon, and the place itself is now so embellished by art, that it
    will be difficult, I believe, to point out a spot that can be put in
    competition with it, considered either as the object of the painter’s
    eye, the poet’s mind, or as a desirable residence for those who,
    admirers of the beautiful wildness of Nature, love also to inhale the
    pure air of aspiring mountains, and enjoy that _santo pacé_, as the
    Italians expressively term it, which arises from solitudes made
    social by a family circle.

    “From the portico it commands a woody, narrow, winding vale; the
    undulating form of whose ascending, shaggy sides, are richly clothed
    with various foliage, broken with silver waterfalls, and crowned with
    climbing sheep-walks, reaching to the clouds.

    “Neither are the luxuries of life absent; for on the margin of the
    Ystwith, where it flows broadest through this delicious vale, we see
    hot-houses and a conservatory: beneath the rocks a bath; amid the
    recesses of the woods a flower garden; and, within the building,
    whose decorations, though rich, are pure and simple, we find a mass
    of rare and valuable literature, whose pages here seem doubly
    precious, where meditation finds scope to range unmolested.

    “In a word, so many are the delights afforded by the scenery of this
    place and its vicinity, to a mind imbued with any taste, that the
    impression on mine was increased, after an interval of ten years from
    the first visit, employed chiefly in travelling among the Alps, the
    Apennines, the Sabine Hills, and the Tyrolese; along the shores of
    the Adriatic, over the Glaciers of Switzerland, and up the Rhine;
    where, though in search of beauty, I never, I feel, saw any thing so
    fine—never so many pictures concentred in one spot; so that, warmed
    by the renewal of my acquaintance with them, I am irresistibly urged
    to attempt a description of the hitherto almost virgin haunts of
    these obscure mountains.

    “Wales, and its borders, both North and South, abound, at intervals,
    with fine things: Piercefield has grounds of great magnificence, and
    wonderfully picturesque beauty.  Downton Castle has a delicious woody
    vale, most tastefully managed; Llangollen is brilliant; the banks of
    the Conway savagely grand; Barmouth romantically rural; the great
    Pistill Rhayader is horribly wild; Rhayader Wennol gay, and
    gloriously irregular,—each of which merits a studied description.

    “But at Havod, and its neighbourhood, I find the effects of all in
    one circle; united with this peculiarity, that the deep dingles, and
    mighty woody slopes, which, from a different source, conduct the
    Rhyddol’s never-failing waters from Plynlimmon, and the Fynache, are
    of an unique character, as mountainous forests, accompanying gigantic
    size with graceful forms; and taken altogether, I see ‘the sweetest
    interchange of hill and valley, rivers, woods and plains, and falls,
    with forests crowned, rocks, dens, and caves,’ insomuch, that it
    requires little enthusiasm there to feel forcibly with Milton—

    ‘All things that be send up from earth’s great altar
    Silent praise!’

    “There are four fine walks from the house, chiefly through ways
    artificially made by the proprietor; all dry, kept clean, and
    composed of materials found on the spot; which is chiefly a coarse
    stone, of a greyish cast, friable in many places, and like slate, but
    oftener consisting of immense masses, that cost the miner, in making
    some parts of these walks, excessive labour; for there are places
    where it was necessary to perforate the rock many yards, in order to
    pass a promontory, that, jutting across the way, denied further
    access; and to go round which you must have taken a great tour, and
    made a fatiguing descent.  As it is the walks are so conducted, that
    few are steep; the transitions easy, the returns commodious, and the
    branches distinct.  Neither are they too many, for much is left for
    future projectors; and if a man be stout enough to range the
    underwoods, and fastidious enough to reject all trodden paths, he
    may, almost every where, stroll from the studied line, till he be
    glad to regain the friendly conduct of the well-known way.

    “Yet one must be nice, not to be content at first to visit the best
    points of view by the general routine; for all that is here done has
    been to remove obstructions, reduce the materials, and conceal the
    art; and we are no where presented with attempts to force the untamed
    streams, or indeed to invent any thing where Nature, the great
    mistress, has left all art behind.”

Such was the just description of Havod; but this magnificent mansion,
with the costly furniture, plate, pictures, and above all to be
regretted, the splendid library of scarce and valuable books, was
consumed by fire, during the absence of the owner, on the 13th of March,
1807.

All that the most indefatigable industry could accomplish was done by Mr.
Johnes, to replace the losses he had sustained; but the Welsh
manuscripts, and many other valuable works and specimens of art here
destroyed, no labour or money could restore.  The actual pecuniary loss
suffered by Mr. Johnes, over and above the 20,000_l._ he was insured,
amounted to between 50 and 60,000_l._; but, like the destruction of the
labours of Lord Mansfield and Dr. Priestley, no estimate can be put on
the loss the proprietor and the world experienced, in thus rendering
abortive forty years of study, research, and expenditure on literary
valuables.  Prior to the decease of Mr. Johnes, who did not long survive
his loss, the exterior of the building was nearly restored to its former
appearance; but the interior arrangement was considerably altered.  He
likewise again established a most sumptuous collection of books, &c. part
of which, the Pesaro library, was on its way from Italy, having been
purchased by Mr. Johnes prior to the conflagration: it comprises many
very valuable books in the Spanish, French, and particularly the Italian
language, rare editions of the classics, and almost all the productions
of the Aldine press.

A minute description of the interior of Havod, prior to the fire, is
given by Mr. Malkin, which is now particularly interesting.
Unfortunately no catalogue of the books and manuscripts was ever taken,
Mr. Johnes not having completed his collection.


THE GENIUS OF HAVOD.


    Formal slaves of art, avaunt!
    This is Nature’s secret haunt:
    The Genius of the landscape, I
    Guard it, with a jealous eye—
    Guard it, that no footstep rude
    Upon her privacy intrude.
    Here, with mystic maze, her throne
    Is girt, accessible to none:
    But to the highly-honour’d few
    To whom I deign to lend my clue;
    And chief to him, who in this grove,
    Devotes his life to share her love:
    From whom she seeks no charms to hide,
    For whom she throws her veil aside,
    Instructing him to spread abroad
    Scenes for Salvator—or for Claude.
    Far, oh far hence, let Brown and Eames
    Zig-zag their walks, and torture streams!
    But let them not my dells profane,
    Or violate my Naiad train:
    Nor let their arrogance invade
    My meanest Dryad’s secret shade,
    And with fantastic knots disgrace
    The native honours of the place—
    Making the vet’ran oak give way,
    Some spruce exotic to display:
    Their petty labours he defy’d,
    Who Taste and Nature would divide!

                                                                     ANON.

We now for many miles passed a barren, dreary country, completely
encircled with hills; and we only climbed one to observe others still
rising in the distant perspective: not even a house or tree appeared to
interrupt the awfulness of the mountains, which, after the copious fall
of rain in the night, teemed with innumerable cataracts.  According to
our directions, we enquired at the foot of Plinlimmon for Rhees Morgan,
as a proper man to be our conductor over the heights of the “fruitful
father of rivers.”  This man being absent, the whole family appeared
thunderstruck at our appearance, and ran with all haste imaginable into
their miserable cot.  One apartment served for the inhabitants of every
description, with only one small hole to admit the light; the entrance
unprotected by a door, but with a blanket as a substitute, was exposed to
the pitiless blast of the winter’s storm.

    “Ah! little think the gay licentious proud,
    Whom pleasure, power, and affluence surround:
    They, who their thoughtless hours in giddy mirth,
    And wanton, often cruel, riot waste;
    Ah! little think they while they dance along,
    . . . . . . . . . . .
    . . . . how many drink the cup
    Of baleful grief, or eat the bitter bread
    Of misery.  Sore pierced by wintry winds,
    How many shrink into the sordid hut
    Of cheerless poverty.”

                                                                  THOMSON.

With some difficulty we prevailed on the female part of the family to
give us proper directions to the source of the meandering Wye, {119} and
rapid Severn.  The latter they only understood by the name of Halfren,
its original British name; it is likewise called in Latin, Sabrina.  From
the top of Plinlimmon we for the first time discovered the shaggy summit
of Cader Idris, and the spiral head of Snowdon.  “With respect to
Plinlimmon mountain,” says Mr. Malkin, “it is inferior only to Snowdon
and Cader Idris; if to the latter, in point of size and height.  It takes
its name from five beacons; many of which, if not all, still remain, and
are seen at some distance.  We may indeed compare Plinlimmon with those
formidable personages of poetical creation, who walk with their feet upon
the earth, and their heads in the region of the heavens.”  There is
nothing particularly engaging in the character of this mountain, except
in its giving rise to no less than six or eight rivers, and, on this
account, has frequently been celebrated by the Poet.  Though its summit
commands a circle of many miles diameter, yet the prospect by no means
answered our expectations.  We descended into a swampy bottom, which
afforded us unpleasant walking for two or three miles, when a most
delightful and well-cultivated valley unexpectedly enlivened our spirits.
The sun was making

    . . . . “a golden set,
    And by the bright track of his fiery car
    Gave signal of a goodly day to-morrow,”

just as we entered this interesting vale; the hay-makers, in the coolness
of the evening, were returning to their homes,

    “Each by the lass he loved.”

In short, the whole valley breathed delicious fragrance: add to this,
innumerable cataracts rushed from the mountain’s summits, occasioned by
the late copious rains.

From hence a good turnpike road soon conducted us to the romantic town of



MACHYNLLETH,


considered as the centre of the woollen manufactory in this part of the
country, principally of the strong cloth, or high country cloth. {121}
The situation of Machynlleth (or as it is pronounced by the Welsh,
Mahunthleth), is extremely romantic; stupendous mountains forming a
natural rampart round the town.  This town is supposed to have been the
Maglona of the Romans, and where, in the name of Honorius, a lieutenant
was stationed to awe the mountaineers.  It is 206 miles from London, and
33 from Montgomery: its population, 1,595 persons.  We here visited the
neglected mansion where Owen Glyndour assembled the states of the
principality, in the year 1402, and accepted from their hands the crown
of Wales.  Part of the house is now converted into a butcher’s shop:—

    “Sic transit gloria mundi.”

In fine, the only evident remains of its ever having been celebrated in
the annals of history, is a spacious door-way.  The town itself, in many
parts, bears the appearance of antiquity: the streets are considerably
wider than Welsh towns in general, and the market-place is well-built:
tanning and the manufacture of flannels and webs constitute the principal
employment of the inhabitants.

As we entered Machynlleth, being the first town in North Wales, we were
in a manner instinctively induced to reflect on the various incidents
that had befallen us from our first sallying forth on our pedestrian
excursion.  We took a retrospect of all our little troubles with equally
as much delight as the sailor, who, by the blessing of Providence, has
escaped the most imminent dangers: all our past imaginary dangers (for
imaginary evils are frequently worse than real ones) were overbalanced
with reflections on the many hours of pleasure that were flown unheeded
by: these reflections brought to my recollection some interesting lines
in Bowles’s sonnets, which I involuntarily exclaimed aloud:

    “Fair scenes, ye lend a pleasure long unknown
    To him who passes weary on his way;
    The farewell tear which now he turns to pay
    Shall thank you, and whene’er of pleasures flown
    His heart some long-lost image would renew,
    Delightful haunts! he will remember you.”

At the village of Kevn Kaer are the remains of an oval camp, a wall, and
ditch: evidently Roman, from the coins and other antiquities found there.

The sublimity of the walk to Talylyn literally “beggars description.”
Having crossed a bridge of eight arches, thrown over the river Dovey,
high mountains closed us on every side, shook into every possible form of
horror; huge masses of rock hung over our path, and it seemed necessary
to remember their firm basis, to soften the terror they inspired; whilst
other mis-shapen fragments lay scattered at the side of the road.  The
transparent Dyflas, whose clear surface reflected the tremulous picture
in all its colours, forms one continued cataract for five or six miles,
overflowing with the innumerable tributary torrents which hurry
themselves down from the highest summit of the surrounding rocks; whilst,
to give effect to the whole prospect, the shaggy head of Cader Idris
towers, the majestic sentinel of the scene, whose “cloud capt” summit the
eye aches in surveying.  To our great disappointment, the weather
prevented our ascending this celebrated mountain giant.  Cader Idris is
esteemed, in height, the second mountain in all Wales, rising two
thousand eight hundred and fifty feet above the green of Dolgelly. {123}

If the weather proves favourable to ascend Cader Idris, travellers may be
very comfortably accommodated with beds at



TALYLYN;


a small village, situate at the foot of the mountain; and where they will
likewise meet with a conductor, in every respect suited for this Alpine
excursion.  Mr. Jones, the landlord of the Blue Lion, used all his
influence to detain us until the weather wore a more favourable aspect;
but we determined to make Barmouth our head quarters.  Quitting,
therefore, our polite landlord, we soon arrived at the pool of Three
Grains, which though of inferior size, yet is generally credited to be
unfathomable; it abounds in fish, and derives its name from three immense
stones, or rather fragments of rock, near it, which the common people
confidently assert, and believe, the giant Idris took out of his shoes as
he passed this pool.

Having ascended several hills, a quick descent of three or four miles
soon brought us to



DOLGELLY,


surrounded with a “tempestuous sea of mountains,” and watered by the
rapid current of the river Avonvawr, over which is thrown a large and
handsome stone bridge at the entrance of the town.

This town was known to the Romans, if we may judge from the coins found
at a well in its vicinity, bearing this inscription, “IMP.  CÆSAR.
TRAJAN.”  It contains 537 houses, and 3064 inhabitants: but the church is
little better than a barn, with a covered roof, supported by two rows of
rude oak pales, and a bare earth floor.

In the neighbourhood of this romantic spot, and indeed in many parts of
Merionethshire, the manufacture of strong cloth has long been carried on.
{124}

No one can picture to themselves a more delightful situation than that of
Dolgelly:—an inclosed vale, encircled with the craggy and subject
mountains of Cader Idris, forming an amphitheatre,—watered by the Alpine
torrent of the Maw,—and richly clothed with wood.  But necessity has no
law; the best inn was pre-occupied, and no comfortable accommodations
could be found; and, though drenched with rain, we were compelled to
quicken our pace to the well known bathing-place of Barmouth.

Such, at the present day, is not likely to be the fate of the traveller,
as Dolgelly boasts of three inns, the Lion, the Angel, for travellers
without a carriage, and the new inn, called the Ship.  One, two, or more
days will be passed here very pleasantly, either in excursions to Cader
Idris, Dol-y-melynllyn, the waterfalls of the Rhaiadr-du, Rhaiadr y
Mawdech and Pistyll y Cayne; or, under the sanction of Sir R. Hoare, who
says he knows of no place where so many inducements are held out to
excite the traveller to make excursions in its vicinity, he may visit the
vale of the Dee, Caer Gai, an old Roman station, at the end of the lake
of Bala, and Dinas y Mowddu, to enable them to accomplish which, ponies
and a guide are to be procured.

The following is Dr. Mavor’s account of the Cader Idris Guide, an
original Caleb Quotem, and the bill of introduction he delivered to his
employers:

                     “Lege, aspice Conductorem, et ride.

                               “ROBERT EDWARDS,

    second son of the celebrated tanner, William Edwards, ap Griffith, ap
    Morgan, ap David, ap Owen, ap Llewellyn, ap Cadwalader; great, great,
    great grandson of an illegitimate daughter of an illustrious hero,
    (no less famed for his irresistible prowess, when mildly approaching
    under the velvet standards of the lovely Venus, than when sternly
    advancing with the terrible banners of the bloody Mars) Sir Rice ap
    Thomas!!! by Anne, alias Catherine, daughter of Howill ap Jenkin, of
    Ynys-y-maesgwyn; who was the thirteenth in descent from Cadwgan, a
    lineal descendant of Bleddyn ap Cynfyn, Prince of Powis.  Since his
    nativity full two and eighty times hath the sun rolled to his summer
    solstice; fifty years was he host of the Hen and Chickens alehouse,
    Pen-y-bont, twenty of which he was apparitor to the late right
    reverend Father in God, John, Lord Bishop of Bangor, and his
    predecessors: by chance, made a glover, by genius, a fly-dresser and
    angler.  He is now, by the All Divine assistance, conductor to, and
    over the most tremendous mountain Cader Idris, to the stupendous
    cataracts of Cayne and Mowddach, and to the enchanting cascades of
    Dol-y-melynllyn, with all its beautiful romantic scenery; guide
    general, and magnificent expounder of all the natural and artificial
    curiosities of North Wales; professor of grand and bombastic
    lexicographical words; knight of the most anomalous, whimsical (yet
    perhaps happy) order of hair-brained inexplicables.”

    “He is a little slender man, about five feet four inches in height,
    and, notwithstanding his advanced age, hopped and skipped about the
    room with all the vivacity and agility of a school-boy.  The manner
    in which he expresses himself is as droll as his appearance.  He was
    dressed in a blue coat with yellow buttons, a pair of old boots, and
    a cocked hat and feather of enormous size.”

Mr. Pugh, in his Cambria Depicta, gives a portrait of him from the life,
seated on his poney, conducting a party up the mountain, and adds to his
bill the two following lines:

    “_Mark_, _traveller_, what rarely meets thy view,
    Thy guide, a giddy _Boy_ of eighty-two.”

Mr. Warner’s description of the view from the summit of Cader Idris is
just and concise.

    “The afternoon was gloriously fine, and the atmosphere perfectly
    clear, so that the vast unbounded prospect lay beneath, unobscured by
    cloud, vapour, or any other interruption, to the astonished and
    delighted eye; which threw its glance over a varied scene, including
    a circumference of at least 500 miles.  To the north-east was
    Ireland, like a distant mist upon the ocean; and a little to the
    right Snowdon, and the other mountains of Caernarvonshire.  Further
    on, in the same direction, the Isle of Man, the neighbourhood of
    Chester, Wrexham, and Salop; the sharp head of the Wrekin, and the
    undulating summit of the Cleehills.  To the south, I saw the country
    round Clifton, Pembrokeshire, St. David’s, and Swansea; to the west,
    a vast prospect of the British Channel, bounded by the horizon.
    Exclusive of these distant objects, the nearer views were wonderfully
    striking.  Numberless mountains, of different forms, appearances, and
    elevation, rose in all directions; which, with the various harbours,
    lakes, and rivers, towns, villages, and villas, scattered over the
    extensive prospect, combined to form a scene inexpressibly august,
    diversified, and impressive.” {128}

Mr. Aikin ascended it from Dolgelly.  Llyn-y-Gader lies about a mile and
a half on the high road to Towyn, which having arrived at, we quitted the
road, and began our ascent.  When we had surmounted the exterior ridge,
we descended a little to a deep clear lake, which is kept constantly full
by the numerous tributary torrents which fall down the surrounding rocks.
Hence we climbed a second and still higher chain, up a steep but not
difficult track, over numerous fragments of rock, detached from the
higher parts: we now came to a second and more elevated lake, called Llyn
y Cae, clear as glass, and overlooked by steep cliffs, in such a manner
as to resemble the crater of a volcano, of which a most accurate
representation may be seen in Wilson’s excellent View of Cader Idris.  A
clear, loud, and distinct echo repeats every shout which is made near the
lake.  The waters of this lake cover an extent of fifty acres, abounding
with trout and other fish.  We now began our last and most difficult
ascent, up the summit of Cader Idris itself.  The loose columnar stones
lie about in all directions, assuming in many places so regular an
appearance, that they might be mistaken for Druidic remains.  Some of
them stand erect, like Maenhirion, and one is dignified with the title
Llêch Idria.  Nearer the summit, numerous masses of irregular figures
present themselves.  Having gained this ascent, a small plain forms the
base to two eminences, or rocky heads, of nearly equal height, one lying
towards the north, called Tyrran Mawr, the other to the south, called Pen
y Gader.  We made choice of the latter, which appeared the most elevated,
and seated ourselves upon its highest pinnacle to rest, after a laborious
ascent of three hours.  We were now above all the eminences within a vast
expanse, and as the clouds gradually cleared away, caught some grand
views of the surrounding country.  The huge rocks, which we before looked
up to with astonishment, were now far below our feet, and many a small
lake appeared in the valleys between them.  To the north, Snowdon and its
dependencies shut up the scene; on the west, we saw the whole curve of
the bay of Cardigan, bounded at a great distance by the Caernarvon
mountains, and nearer the sea, dashing its white breakers against the
rocky coast of Merioneth.  The southern horizon was bounded by
Plinlimmon, the bay of Swansea, the Channel peeping through the openings
of the Brecon mountains; and on the east, the eye glanced over the lake
of Bala, the two Arennig mountains, the two Arrans, and the long chain of
the Ferwyn mountains, to the Breddin hills, on the confines of
Shropshire.  Dimly, in the distant horizon, was beheld the Wrekin, rising
alone from the plain of Salop.  “In viewing scenes so decidedly
magnificent,” says a pictorial writer, “and to which neither the pen nor
the pencil of the painter can ever do justice; and the contemplation of
which has the power of making ample atonement for having studied mankind,
the soul expanding and sublimed, quickens with a spirit of divinity, and
appears, as it were, associated with the Deity himself.  For, in the same
manner as a shepherd feels himself ennobled, while sitting with his
prince, so, and in a far more unlimited degree, the beholder feels
himself advanced to a higher scale in the creation, in being permitted to
see and to admire the grandest of the works of nature.”  Having satisfied
our curiosity, and being thoroughly chilled by the keen air of these
elevated regions, we began to descend down the side opposite to that
which we had come up.

The first stage led us to another beautiful mountain lake, the cold clear
waters of which discharge their superabundance in a stream down the side
of the mountain.  All these lakes abound with trout, and in some is found
the gwniad, a fish peculiar to rocky Alpine lakes.  Following the course
of the stream, we came upon the edge of the craggy cliffs which overlook
Talyllyn lake.  A long and difficult descent conducted us, at last, to
the borders of Talyllyn, where we entered the Dolgelly road.

The mountain



CADER IDRIS,


in height the second in Wales, rises on the sea-shore, close upon the
north side of the estuary of the small river Disynwy, about a mile from
Towyn.  It proceeds with almost a constant ascent; first northwards for
about three miles, then, for ten miles further, runs east-north-east,
giving out from its summit a branch nearly three miles long, in a
south-west direction, parallel to the main ridge.  It is very steep and
craggy on every side; but the south descent, especially to the border of
Talyllyn lake, is the most precipitous, being nearly perpendicular.  Its
breadth bears but a small proportion to its length; a line passing along
its base, and intersecting the summit, would scarcely equal four miles
and a half; and in the other parts it is a mere ridge, whose base hardly
ever exceeds one mile in breadth.  Cader Idris is the beginning of a
chain of primitive mountains, extending in a north-north-east direction,
and including the Arrans and the Arennigs.  It is much loftier and more
craggy than the slate and secondary mountains which surround it.

The following Ode, by a friend, was written at the fountain welling from
the side of this mountain.

                                      I.

    The winds are hush’d: the woods are still;
    And clouds around yon towering hill,
          In silent volumes roll:—
    While o’er the vale, the moon serene
    Throws yellow on the living green;
    And wakes a harmony between
          The body and the soul.

                                     II.

    Deceitful calm! yon volumes soon,
    Though gilded by the golden moon,
          Will send the thunder’s roar.
    Gloom will succeed the glowing ray;
    The storm will rage with giant sway;
    And lightnings will illume its way
          Along the billowy shore.

                                     III.

    ’Tis thus in life, from youth to age,
    Through manhood’s weary pilgrimage,
          What flattering charms infest!
    We little think beneath a smile,
    How many a war, how many a wile,
    The rich, confiding, heart beguile,
          And rob it of its rest.

                                     IV.

    Then let me near this fountain lie;
    And let old Time in silence fly,
          Stealing my youth away!
    Far from the riot of the mean,
    Oh! let me o’er this fountain lean;
    Till Death has drawn the darksome skreen,
          That hides eternal day.

Mr. Bingley ascended this mountain from the Blue Lion, kept by Jones,
before mentioned, who acts as guide: from this spot Mr. Bingley declares
himself capable of attaining the summit in two hours, from which he
describes the views to be more varied, if not so extensive, as from
Snowdon.

“In descending,” he says, “I took a direction eastward of that in which I
had gone up, and proceeded along that part of the mountain called Mynydd
Moel.  The path in this direction is sufficiently sloping to allow a
person to ride even to the summit.  A gentleman, mounted on a little
Welsh poney, had done this a few days before I was here.”

“About two miles from Dolgelly is the pretty village of Llanettyd, and
from hence a road through the vale to Maentwrog, which vale is seen to
much advantage from the bridge.  From this village likewise a path leads
to Y Vanner, or Kymmer Abbey, founded in 1198, by Meredith and Griffith,
lords of Merioneth, and sons of Cynan ap Owen Gwynedd, prince of North
Wales.  The monks were of the Cistercian order, and the abbey was
dedicated to St. Mary.

“The approach to Barmouth was formerly over a prodigious mountain,
surmounted with great difficulty, and passed with apprehension of
destruction.  The magistrates of the county, however, bent on
improvement, agreed with an undertaker to form a road out of the steep
rocks jutting out from the sea, and to guard it with a wall.  The labour
was astonishing, the price two guineas a yard.  It is now a most charming
road, exhibiting romantic boldness of scenery.

“A stone bridge of several arches conducts over Wnion, which here flows
many hundred feet wide.  On the right, at a mile distant from the town,
on the bank of the river, are the ruins of Kymmer Abbey.  Two miles from
Dolgelly is Nanneau Park, once the residence of Hawel Sele, an inveterate
enemy of Owen Glyndwr, the ancient seat of the family of that name, now
of Sir William Vaughan, Bart.  The road is by a steep ascent, and the
house stands on very high ground.  Sir Robert Vaughan erected a new and
handsome mansion.  In the upper part of the park are the remains of a
British post, called Moel Orthrwn, or the Hill of Oppression.  Returning
towards Barmouth, you regain the road at Llan Ettyd, where the tide flows
to a considerable height.  Brigs are built here of 200 tons burden.

“From Llan Ettyd to Barmouth is ten miles of most excellent road, winding
round the hill opposite to Dolgelly, on a shelf of rock, through hanging
woods, across a handsome stone bridge over the Mawddach, when it joins
the Wnion.  The expanse of water here is considerable at high tide,
having the appearance of a large lake, enveloped by mountains.  The vivid
summit of Cader now assumes the appearance of a volcano.  The road
follows the inequalities of the shore, till it occupies a narrow shelf of
the perpendicular rock of Barmouth.  Here is a fine view of the river
falling into the beautiful bay of Cardigan.”—NICHOLSON.



BARMOUTH.


It is advisable for all travellers, pedestrians not excepted, to leave
Dolgelly at high water, as without that the scenery loses much of its
beauty; if convenient, it is certainly preferable to hire a boat at the
Stoves; the charge is three shillings and sixpence; by this you will save
a walk of eight miles, and both from your situation, and from being more
at your ease, will better admit of your observing the surrounding
scenery, with which you cannot fail to be highly gratified.

This short excursion of eight miles is truly grand, awful, and sublime;
and, though many parts of this striking valley are richly cultivated,
yet, by the side of the road, enormous mountains, formed into the most
capricious shapes, shoot into the clouds, sometimes projecting so far
over the road, as seemingly designing to impede our farther progress: the
wide expanse of the ocean in front, with the arm of the sea running up
the country in the centre of the valley; in fine, the _tout ensemble_
claimed our highest admiration.

Barmouth, though considered as a bathing-place, is very inferior to
Tenby, yet its situation for grandeur of rocks has been frequently
compared by many tourists to Gibraltar, and by others esteemed not unlike
St. Kitts, in the West Indies.  The vast sand-banks, formed by the tides,
immediately in front of the town, are the only barriers which protect it
from the inundations of the sea.  The shore is extremely level, and
affords, for many miles, excellent riding.

Barmouth is the only port in the county of Merioneth; but the entrance to
it is difficult.  The town is built on ledges of rock, one rising above
another, so that the inhabitants of one street look down upon the
chimnies of that which is before them.

The board and lodging is regulated on the same excellent plan here as at
Tenby, with very little difference in respect to the expense.  We could
not avoid observing the number of pigs, which are esteemed in this part
of the country far superior to any in England, lying in every corner of
the street; and these pigs, I rather imagine, consider themselves, during
the night, inmates of the peasant’s cottage: yet these hardships, if they
may be distinguished by that name, the inhabitants of the hovel suffer
without complaint, and deem themselves perfectly happy as long as they
possess a pile of turf to keep off the inclemency of the winter’s blast,
a small strip of ground well stocked with potatoes, some poultry, and a
fat pig: one hovel, however, protects them all.  Though, to appearance,
their situation is most miserable, yet it has no effect on their tempers
and dispositions; their hospitality, and indeed kindness, towards
strangers in distress, is an interesting trait in their character: to
instance this, I am induced to mention an anecdote which took place at
Hubberstone, not long ago.  A lady, anxiously waiting the arrival of her
husband from Ireland, at the miserable village of Hubberstone, soon
interested even the meaner inhabitants of the place in her behalf; who,
willing to render her situation as comfortable as possible, seemed to vie
with each other in producing the most delicious fruits, and the choicest
garlands of flowers, to present them to the unhappy consort; and, not
content alone with this, she was generally greeted in the streets, with
the phrase, “There goes poor Mrs. L—.”  The lady, at last, impatient for
the arrival of her husband, determined to sail for Ireland.  The
faithfulness of the little group that accompanied her to the shore can
better be imagined than described; the last farewell, with tears of
artless innocence, and the beseeching that Providence “who governs the
waves, and stills the raging of the sea,” to grant her a prosperous
voyage, all this seemed to come so thoroughly from the bottom of their
hearts, that we cannot avoid feeling ourselves interested in their
behalf.

The road from hence to



HARLECH


is stony and uninteresting; to the left, an unbounded view of the wide
ocean; and, in front, the steep mountains of North Wales rose in endless
perspective.  About four miles from Barmouth, we passed the two lodges at
Tal-y-bont, leading to Corsy-Gedol, the seat of Sir Thomas Mostyn.  It is
practicable to go by the sands; but we were given to understand that the
turnpike road was, if anything, shorter, the scenery more pleasing, and
the guides necessary for crossing those dangerous sands, in general, most
complete villains.

Harlech, anciently called Twr-Bronwen, though formed by King Edward I.
into a borough, can now be esteemed little more than a dirty village: the
present castle, one of the most entire in Wales, is founded on a very
high rock, projecting into the Irish sea.  It consists of a square
building, each side measuring about seventy yards, having at every corner
a round tower.  From each of these issued formerly a round turret, except
one or two, all now destroyed.  The fortifications, fosses, and its
situation on the verge of a perpendicular rock, rendered it almost
invulnerable.

This castle is one of the strongest and handsomest in Wales.  It is in
the possession of the Crown, and in time of war has a small garrison for
the defence of the coast.  From the top of the walls to the marsh the
height is very considerable, and from thence the bay of Cardigan is seen
to great advantage: in addition to this, the shagged summits of Cader
Buchan and Snowdon, in Caernarvonshire, being enveloped in clouds, appear
scarcely visible.

At the public-house we accidentally met with a well-informed man, who
minutely delineated every part of the castle; and, beginning with the
founder, in the true characteristic style of a Welshman, ran through his
pedigree several generations: this, however, did not interest us cursory
pedestrians; and, with little persuasion, we soon induced him to write
down, in as concise a manner as possible, any information he was
acquainted with respecting the castle: “The founder of Harlech Castle,
A.D. 552, was Maelgwyn; Gwynedd; made Caer Dugoll (Shrewsbury); Caer
Gyffin (Aber Conway); Caer Gollwyn (Harleck); supposed to be buried in
Cirencester, and reigned thirty-four years.”  Whether this information is
correct, I will not take upon me to assert; but meeting with a Welshman
in this part of the country capable of writing, rather surprised us, and
induced me to transcribe this short paragraph.

In the year 1408 it was taken by the Earl of Pembroke, and afforded
likewise shelter to Margaret of Anjou, after the battle of Northampton in
1460; and was the last in North Wales which held out for the King, being
surrendered to General Mytton in 1647.

In a garden near this castle was dug up, in the year 1692, an ancient
golden torques, of a round form, an inch in circumference, and weighing
eight ounces.  This curious relic of British antiquity, exhibited in a
drawing by Mr. Pennant, still continues in the possession of the Mostyn
family.  As we had not an opportunity of examining the original, this
account can only be gathered from the information of former authors, who
represent it as “a wreathed bar, or rather three or four rods twisted
together, about four feet long, flexible, but bending naturally only one
way, in form of a hat-band: it originally had holes at each end, not
twisted or sharp, but plain, and cut even.”

In the year 1694, the prodigious phenomenon of fire or kindled
exhalation, which disturbed the inhabitants of this neighbourhood, is
both singular and extraordinary: sixteen ricks of hay, and two barns,
were burnt by a kindled exhalation, or blue weak flame, proceeding from
the sea: this lasted about a fortnight or three weeks, poisoning the
grass, and firing it for the space of a mile.  It is extraordinary, that
it had no effect on the men who interposed their endeavours to save the
ricks from destruction, even by running into it.  For a more accurate
account of this singular phenomenon, I refer my readers to the
Philosophical Transactions, No. 208, and likewise to the Addenda in
Camden: suffice it to say, that the air and grass were so infected, that
it occasioned a great mortality of cattle, horses, sheep, and goats.  The
various conjectures that have been formed, to account for this kindled
exhalation, seem to be very unsatisfactory; something similar to this,
both in the appearance and in the effect, happened in France, in the year
1734.

As, from the unfavourableness of the weather, we had not contemplated the
rich scenery between Barmouth and Dolgelly, with that nice investigation
which it deserved, we determined, by returning to our obliging landlady
at the Corsy-Gedol arms, to seize the opportunity of again admiring its
beauties; and, by taking a more circuitous route to the vale of
Festiniog, pay that attention to the falls of Doll-y-mullin, Moddach, and
Cayne, which they so deservedly require.

This second saunter we found by no means tedious: the scene seemed
perpetually changing at every unexpected curvature of the road; and the
rude features of the mountains appeared to assume new forms, as the
winding presented them to the eye in different positions; whilst the
shifting vapours, which partially concealed their minuter grandeur,
assisted the illusions of the sight.  Amidst new woods, rising in the
majesty of foliage, the scattered cottage, with its bluish smoke curling
high in the air, was frequently rendered interesting by its neat
simplicity; and served to constitute the romantic beauties of this
picturesque ramble.

This pleasing scenery varied little till we arrived within two miles of
Dolgelly, when several gentlemen’s seats burst upon our sight; and
leaving that enchanting spot to the left, at the Laneltyd turnpike, a
different object presented itself to our view.  For four miles we walked
by the side of a hill, the most translucent stream attending us the whole
way; for, though the road was situated so much above it, yet the sandy
bottom, with the finny tribe, in considerable numbers sporting in this
transparent element, were easily descried.  On each side, the mountains
rose to a considerable height, with the craggy summit of Cader Idris
claiming the pre-eminence.  We soon arrived at the small ale-house,
(Traveller’s Rest), where we met the labourer of Mr. Madox, whom we were
recommended to inquire for, as a proper cicerone to the water-falls in
his vicinity.  Having finished our scanty but wholesome repast, we
repaired with an old woman (the labourer being confined to the house by
indisposition), to the fall of Doll-y-mullin.  There appeared to be
something singular in the appearance of this “mountain elf:” destitute of
shoes and stockings, in the true Cambrian style, she tripped it,
occasionally singing, and sometimes discontented with the world, herself,
and every thing, uttering a most dismal groan.  This excited our
curiosity; but, to learn much of her situation we soon found
impracticable; her knowledge of the English language was very trivial;
and, as she seemed not much inclined to give us any information
respecting the adjacent country, we found it useless to make inquiries
concerning her condition in life.

Our surly conductress first led us through Mr. Madox’s grounds; to the
left of the Tan-y-bwlch road, by a most delightful walk cut through the
wood, we soon reached the Fall of Doll-y-mullin, the roaring of which had
a long time announced its vicinity.  This cataract, though considered
only as a prelude to the grand Falls of the Cayne and Moddach, is still
worthy the attention of the passing traveller: for, though the river
precipitates itself not more than fifty feet, yet, the projection and
situation of the rocks, and the thick oak carelessly throwing its broad
brown arms across the troubled waters, is singularly pleasing.  We had
hitherto only contemplated this scene from the foot of the fall; but how
noble the effect when we began to wind up the steep ascent, and paused at
every basin, which the water had formed in the excavated rock!

By a retrograde saunter we soon gained the Tan-y-bwlch road; and, passing
over the romantic bridge of Pont ar Garfa, beautifully entwined with the
rich drapery of ivy, we ascended a steep path over the slaty mountain of
Tylyn Gwladys, two miles in extent.—Sublimity, indeed, gave place to
elegance: behind us, the huge steep of Cader Idris, lifting high above
the rolling cloud its shaggy head, of which, at intervals, we caught a
glance through the thick mist which enveloped it; in front, Snowdon,
conscious of pre-eminence, rose in the distant perspective: these were
the boundaries of our view.  On the opposite side a barren mountain,
dignified by the name of Prince of Wales, appeared scarcely accessible,
but to the steps of the enthusiast.  This formerly afforded a vast
quantity of ore, but it has lately so much failed, as not to produce even
a sufficiency to remunerate the miners.  While traversing these barren
mountains, it is not less singular than interesting occasionally to meet
the most delicious valleys, watered by some foaming river; these are
often literally surcharged

    “With weighted rains, and melted Alpine snows.”

Such is the true characteristic of the Welsh scenery: the finest verdure
and the most enchanting valleys are discovered in the bosom of sterility;
where natural cascades, precipitating themselves from their rude
pinnacles, alone disturb the silence which reigns in that asylum.  These
render it more enchanting to the inquisitive pedestrians, for these
landscapes are only accessible to their steps: and the distant swell of
the cataract had now long proclaimed our proximity to the object in
pursuit.  The Falls of the Cayne and the Moddach are at no great distance
from one another, being only separated by a thick wood.  Crossing a small
bridge, above fifty feet from the water, formed only by the trunk of an
oak, which has accidentally fallen across the rapid torrent, our
conductress very judiciously selected the latter as the first object of
our admiration.  The computed measurement of this fall is estimated at
between seventy and eighty feet, dividing itself into three distinct
parts, each finely broken by the projected rocks.  The quantity of water
is very inconsiderable; but the whole is admirably presented to the eye
in one view.  The first fall, about twenty feet, precipitates itself into
a deep pool, thirty feet diameter; from thence over a second ledge,
thirty feet high; and, lastly, it discharges itself into a pool of
considerable dimensions.  The declivities of the rocks are luxuriantly
clothed with wood; the oak more particularly spreading its gigantic arms
across the foaming torrent: a variety of trees, indeed, profusely
embellish the whole of this glen, which are finely contrasted with the
dark brown rocks; constituting so finished a picture, and representing
such a variety of colours, that their beauties can be better conceived
than described.

We now returned to the Fall of the Cayne, infinitely superior to any in
Wales, being two hundred feet perpendicular, uninterrupted by rocks, and
not intercepted by the thick wood which encircles it.  For a considerable
time we both of us gazed with that rapt admiration, which loathes to be
disturbed by the mutual exchange of ideas; and, stunned with the
continual uproar, and never-ceasing tumultuous motion of the sparkling
foam, we silently admired the grandeur of the landscape.  On each side
the horrific crags seemed to bid defiance to the goat’s activity.  The
Cayne, after this stunned cataract, throws its troubled waters over a
rocky bed, till it unites itself with the Moddach below.

“The feelings with which we view objects of the above description,” says
the author of the Beauties, Harmonies, and Sublimities of Nature, “oppose
the theory of Mr. Burke, who confines sublimity to objects of terror;
those of Lord Kaimes, and Dr. Gerrad, who make it to consist in
magnitude, and Dr. Blair, who places it in ‘force,’ are equally
erroneous.  The idea of Longinus, were we to associate sublimity in
poetry with that of the material world, (which we are, however, not
authorized to do,) is far from being correct.  He defines it ‘a proud
elevation of mind.’  When applied to material objects, this is neither
cause nor consequence; for the experience of every man, from the proudest
of princes to the humblest of peasants, proclaims, that the effect of all
sublimity is astonishment, blended with awe: and when, at one moment, did
pride and awe unite in the same bosom?  The difference between sublimity
of writing, and sublimity in objects, has not been sufficiently
distinguished by the several writers on the subject of taste.  No objects
are beautiful and sublime, but by virtue of association.  If they were,
the Vale of Aylesbury would be beautiful to him, who had long resided in
the Vale of Clwyd: and the Cliffs of Dover and the Peaks of Scotland
would be equally sublime to the native of Crim Tartary and the peasant of
the Tyrol.  The opinions of many philosophers, in respect to the pleasure
we derive from objects, which excite our pity, are equally false.  The
Abbé du Bos, Fontenelle, Hume, Akenside, and Burke, are all in error.  We
must refer to principles; and the principle in this argument resolves
itself into the conclusion, that misfortune elicits sympathy, after the
same manner that magnets affine, and planets gravitate.  But actual final
causes we have no power to define; though we frequently presume to do so.
Man, indeed, has the faculty of judging, limitedly, of effects; but vain,
proud, and arrogant as he is, he can only reason hypothetically, when he
would treat of final causes and of final consequences.”

With reluctance we left this romantic situation; and, according to the
directions of our conductress, soon found ourselves in the turnpike-road
to Tan-y-bwlch, understanding that Mr. Warner’s route to Pen-street
afforded indifferent walking.  Stupendous mountains attended us some way;
and, to borrow a description from a celebrated author, they “looked like
the rude materials of creation, forming the barrier of unwrought space.”
The sun was now making a “golden set:” the mountains were thrown together
in noble masses, appearing to scale the heavens, to intercept its rays,
and emulous to receive the parting tinge of lingering day.  We were
watching with admiration the mild splendour of its light, fading from the
distant landscape, when we perceived the rich vale of Festiniog suddenly
open itself to our view: we observed the busy group of haymakers, who had
completed their day’s labour, returning to their homes:

    “While heard from dale to dale,
    Waking the breeze, resounds the blended voice
    Of happy labour, love, and social glee.”

Pleased with this rustic scene, we caught the cheerful song, which was
wafted on the gentle breeze.  With pleasure we anticipated a saunter
through this vale, early the ensuing morning: for one tint of sober grey
had now covered its various-coloured features, and the sun had now
gleamed its last light upon the rivulet which winds through the bottom.



TAN-Y-BWLCH.


The “rich-hair’d youth of morn” had not long left his saffron bed, and
the very air was balmy as it freshened into morn, when we hurried from
our inn to enjoy the luxuries of the vale of Festiniog, so well
celebrated by the pen of Lord Littleton: “With the woman one loves, with
the friend of one’s heart, and a good study of books, one may pass an age
there, and think it a day.  If one has a mind to live long, and renew his
youth, let him come and settle at Festiniog.”  These are the sentiments
of Lord Littleton, in which seemed to be verified the situation of Mr.
Oakley, who has selected this spot for his residence.  Tan-y-Bwlch hall
(for by that name is Mr. Oakley’s seat dignified) is environed by a thick
wood, which climbs the steep mountains behind his mansion.  We followed
the meandering and translucent waters of the river Dwyryd, till we
arrived at the village of Maenwrog, situated about the middle of this
paradise.  Passing through the village we observed a small but neat
cottage, which was rendered interesting to the wayfarer, by its neat
simplicity.  A large old-fashioned chimney-corner, with benches to
receive a social party, formed a most enviable retreat from the rude
storms of winter, and defied alike the weather and the world:—with what
pleasure did I picture

    “A smiling circle, emulous to please,”

gathering round a blazing pile of wood on the hearth, free from all the
vicissitudes and cares of the world; happy in their own home, blessed in
the sweet affection of kindred amity, regardless of the winter blast that
struggled against the window, and the snow that pelted against the roof.
On our entering, the wife, who possessed “the home of happiness, an
honest breast,” invited us to take a seat under the window; which,
overlooking the village, and the dark tower of the church, offered the
delights of other seasons.  The sweets of a little garden joined its
fragrance to the honey-suckle, which enwreathed with rich drapery the
windows; and here too lay the old family Bible, which had been put aside
on our first entrance.  We regretted our not having had an opportunity of
seeing the husband, whom I make no doubt

    “Envied not, and never thought of kings,
    Nor from those appetites sustain’d annoy,
    That chance may frustrate, or indulgence cloy;
    Each season look’d delightful as it past,
    To the fond husband, and the faithful wife.”

“About a mile east of this village,” says Mr. Evans, “are two remarkable
waterfalls, called Rhaiadr Du, on the river Cynvel, one about three
hundred yards above, and the other below, a rustic bridge thrown over the
river, to which it leads.  The upper fall consists of three steep rocks,
over which the water foams into a deep black bason, overshadowed by the
adjoining rocks.  The other is formed by a broad sheet of water,
precipitated down a rock forty feet high, and darkened by the numerous
foliage around it, almost to the edge of the stream.  Between the
cataract and the bridge is a tall columnar rock, called the pulpit of
_Hugh Llwyd Cynvel_, and situate in the bed of the river, from whence,
sage tradition says, a magician used to deliver his nocturnal
incantations.”  There are few objects in Wales more worthy to be visited
than these waterfalls.

From Festiniog, a pleasant excursion may be made to Tremadoc and
Criccaeth, and from thence to Pwllheli and Bardsey island.  Tremadoc,
which is situate at the mouth of the Traeth Mawr, in the promontory of
Llyn, is about eight miles from Pont-Aber-Glaslyn: its situation is low,
being three feet below low water-mark, built on land reclaimed from the
sea, by the spirited exertions of the late William Alexander Madocks,
Esq. of Tany-yr-alt.

The town, which is an oblong square, contains a handsome market-house,
over which are assembly rooms: a church, a good inn, the Tremadoc Arms,
and a bank.  The reclaimed land consists of about two thousand acres,
which, in less than three years, was covered with vegetation; it now
produces excellent crops of wheat, barley, clover, &c. &c.

Mr. Madocks, after having succeeded in this arduous undertaking, set
about the still more difficult one of throwing an embankment across the
mouth of the Traeth Mawr; as an inducement for the accomplishing of
which, a grant was made to him from the crown, in 1807, of the whole of
these sands, from Pontaber-glasllyn to the point of Gêst.

The length of the embankment, from north to south, would be about a mile;
its breadth at the base one hundred feet, at the top thirty.  The whole
of this has been completed to within one hundred yards in the centre, and
it is to be hoped this noble work will still be accomplished: funds only
seem now necessary for its completion: strong chain cables extended
across the opening, and hulks then sunk and filled would soon allow them
to finish the embankment.  After seeing those in North Holland nothing is
to be despaired of.  Long faggots, from seven to ten feet, straw, rushes,
and sand are the best sea-walls, sloping them gradually for the rise of
the tide.  Those in Holland seemed constantly to have been increased by
the action of the sea, instead of having been diminished.



CRICCAETH


is a small borough and market town.  Its population is now about four
hundred: it, jointly with Caernarvon, &c. sends a member to parliament.

Its ruined castle is not unworthy of attention; it stands on an eminence
projecting into the sea, and the entrance to it by land, being only along
an isthmus, defended by a double foss and vallum, it must formerly have
been strong.  The gateway is between two towers, or bastions, externally
round, but square within; the facings of which are ascribed to Edward the
First: the other towers are entirely square.  There have been two courts,
but neither of them large, nor indeed has the whole castle been a
building of any other than small extent.

It is now in a ruinous state.  The view from the ruins over the bay to
Haerlech is beautiful.  In the neighbourhood of Pwllheli are several
respectable family seats; and the country in its vicinity is generally
better cultivated than the rest of the promontory: the town itself is
irregular and unpleasant; but it carries on a good coasting trade, and
vessels of considerable burthen are here built.  The petty sessions for
the district of Llyn are held here; it is likewise contributory to
Caernarvon, in sending a member to parliament.  Along the coast to
Bardsey Island, a considerable trade in fishing is carried on.  Herrings
frequent this coast in great abundance, and are very fine: some are cured
here, and quantities sold to the Irish.  Here likewise are taken both
john dories and smelts; the former of which was rejected by the fishermen
on the score of its ugliness.

To sail from hence to Bardsey Island is both tedious and dangerous.
Passing the bay called Hell’s Mouth, of which Mr. Bingley says, “I never
saw a place which presented so favourable an appearance, and that was at
the time so much dreaded by the mariners as the present.  It is at the
very end of the promontory, and from point to point is supposed to
measure about eight miles; it is also nearly semicircular.  None but
strange vessels, even in the most boisterous weather, ever seek for
shelter here; and when they are so unfortunate, they are soon stranded,
and never again return.  ‘We remember,’ says Mr. Jones, in one of his
letters, ‘more misfortunes to have happened in this bay, and more
inhumanity shewn to the sufferers, than we have ever heard of any where
else on the Welsh coast.’  My pilot, who had been long acquainted with
every part of these coasts, informed me, that, from whatever point of the
compass the wind blew out at sea, on account of the surrounding high
rocks, it always came into the mouth of this bay; and from whatever
quarter the tide flowed, the upper current here always sets inwards.
From these circumstances the common tradition is, that the place obtained
the appellation of _Hell’s Mouth_.

“The whole coast, from the Rivals round the end of the land, nearly to
Pwllheli, is terminated only by high and steep rocks, inhabited in the
summer by a variety of sea-fowl.”  Mr. Bingley, having failed in his
attempt to land in Bardsey, gives the following account of that island,
from the letters of the Rev. — Jones, vicar of Aberdaron, to whose parish
it belongs.



ISLAND OF BARDSEY.


“This island, which is the property of Lord Newborough, is somewhat more
than two miles long, and one in breadth, and contains about three hundred
and seventy acres of land; of which nearly one-third is occupied by a
high mountain, that affords feed only for a few sheep and rabbits.  Its
distance from the main land is about a league.  Towards the south-east
and south-west it lies entirely open, but on the north and north-east it
is sheltered by its mountain, which to the sea presents a face of
perpendicular, and in some parts overhanging rocks.  Among these
precipices the intrepid inhabitants, in the spring of the year, employ
themselves in collecting the eggs of the various sea-fowl that frequent
them.  This is usually done bare-footed, to prevent them from slipping
from heights, whence they must be dashed to pieces; and their concern for
their safety while seizing these eggs, is infinitely less than that of
the beholder, sitting securely in the boat below.

    Nor untrembling canst thou see,
    How from a craggy rock, whose prominence
    Half o’ershades the ocean, hardy men
    Fearless of dashing waves do gather them.

“These poor fellows do not often meet with accidents, except by the
giving way of pieces of the rock.  In this case they are irrecoverably
lost.  The men who venture without ropes are accounted by the natives the
most bold climbers: those who are more cautious fix a rope about their
middle, which is held by some persons on the top of the rock.  By this
they slip down to the place where they think the most eggs are to be
found.  Here, untying it from their body, they fasten it to the basket
that is to contain the eggs, which they carry in their hand.  When this
is filled, they make a signal to their companions to draw them up.  In
this manner they proceed from rock to rock, ascending or descending as
they find it necessary.  They adopt the same modes in collecting
samphire, with which the rocks also abound.

“On the south-east side of the island, the only side on which it is
accessible to the mariner, there is a small but well-sheltered harbour,
capable of admitting vessels of thirty or forty tons burthen.  In this
the inhabitants secure their own fishing-boats.  The soil is principally
clay, and produces excellent barley and wheat; vetches, peas, and beans,
are said to succeed sufficiently well; but to oats it is not so
favourable.  Trees will not grow here, the keen westerly winds
immediately destroying the young plants.  Indeed, except a small quantity
of fine meadow land, all the lower ground of the island is of little
value.  No reptile is ever seen in this island, except the common water
lizard.  None of the inhabitants ever saw in it a frog, toad, or snake of
any kind.

“Till about fourteen years ago, no sparrows had been known to breed here:
three nests were, however, built, during the same spring, and the produce
has since completely colonized the place.

“There are here but eight houses, although the number of inhabitants is
upwards of seventy.  Two or three of the principal of these rent the
island of Lord Newborough.  They pay for it a hundred guineas a-year, and
have their land tithe free; and are also freed from taxes and rates of
every description.  They keep about twenty horses and near thirty cows.
All the former, though greatly overstocking so small a place, are
absolutely necessary, on account of the great labour required in carrying
up the sea-weeds from the coast for manure.

“The sheep are small, and on the approach of a stranger, as Mr. Jones
informs me, they squall not much unlike hares.  Their activity is very
remarkable.  In the year 1801, Mr. Jones had one of them on his farm, at
Aberdaron, that had twice ventured through the sea, though the channel is
three miles across, and regained the island.  The inhabitants train their
dogs to catch them; but if the sheep once gain the rocks, they bid
defiance to every attempt for the time, as, rather than suffer themselves
to be seized, they will plunge from thence into the sea.  At the time of
the year when the females usually drop their offspring, the inhabitants
watch them every day, and before they are able to follow their dams, they
mark them in the ears: they then suffer them to range at liberty.
Without this attention, from the extreme wildness of the animals, the
owners would never be able to distinguish their respective property.
Some few of the sheep of the island, from having been rendered tame when
young, are more easily managed: these alone submit to be folded in the
evening.

“Curiosity induces many persons to visit this island almost every summer;
but the grandest sight the present inhabitants ever witnessed, was a
visit of the proprietor, Lord Newborough, and several persons of
distinction, in the whole to the number of about forty.  This company
embarked in fishing-smacks from Porther, near Carreg Hall, in the parish
of Aberdaron.  On their arrival in the island marquees were immediately
pitched.  The whole company dined in the open air; and at the conclusion
of their repast, all the inhabitants were assembled.  The ensuing scene
reminded a gentleman of my acquaintance, who was present, of what he had
read respecting the inhabitants of some of the South Sea islands.  They
were drawn up into a circle, and Lady Newborough adorned the heads of the
females with caps and ribbons, whilst Lord Newborough distributed hats
among the men.  The nominal king and queen of the island were
distinguished from the rest by an additional ribbon.”

Mr. B. concludes by giving the following history of Bardsey.

“The Welsh name of this place is Ynys-Enlli.  During the violent
struggles between the Welsh and English, it was styled by the poets the
sanctuary or asylum of the Saints, and it was sometimes denominated the
Isle of Refuge.  Some of these poets assert that it was the cemetery of
_twenty thousand saints_! {155}

“The reputed sanctity of this island induced the religious to resort to
it, from many very distant parts of the country.  It has been asserted by
several writers, that Roderic Moelwynog, prince of North Wales, first
founded here a monastery, some time in the eighth century.  He might,
perhaps, rebuild or enlarge it, but there are good grounds, from Welsh
manuscripts, for supposing that there was a religious house in this
island of a much more early date.  There is an old legend yet extant,
written in Monkish Latin, which assures us that the Almighty had entered
into a particular covenant with Laudatus, the first abbot of Bardsey, in
return for the piety of his monks.  This granted to all the religious of
the monastery of Bardsey, the peculiar privilege of dying according to
seniority, the oldest always going off first.  By this privilege, it is
stated, that every one knew very nearly the time of his departure.  The
following is a translation of it:—‘At the original foundation of the
monastery of this island, the Lord God who attendeth to the petitions of
the just, at the earnest request of the holy Laudatus, the first abbot,
entered into a covenant with that holy man, and miraculously confirmed
his promise, unto him, his successors, the abbots and monks for ever,
while they should lead holy and religious lives, that they should die by
succession, that is, that the oldest should die first, like a shock of
corn ripe for the sickle.  Being thus warned of the approach of death,
each of them, therefore, should watch, as not knowing at what exact hour
the thief might come; and, being thus always prepared, each of them by
turns should lay aside his earthly form.  God, who is ever faithful, kept
his covenant, as he formerly did with the Israelites, inviolable; until
the monks no longer led a religious life, but began to profane and defile
God’s sanctuary by their fornications and abominable crimes.  Wherefore,
after this, they were permitted to die like other men, sometimes the
older, sometimes the younger, and sometimes the middle-aged first; and,
being thus uncertain of the approach of death, they were compelled to
submit to the general laws of mortality.  Thus, when they ceased to lead
a holy and religious life, God’s miraculous covenant also ceased: and do
thou, therefore, O God, have mercy upon us.”

The ancient building is now entirely destroyed; but, about the ground
where the monastery stood, a great number of graves have very lately been
discovered, lined with white stone or tile, and distant about two feet
from each other.  All the religious duties of the inhabitants are now
performed in the parish church of Aberdaron.  Sometimes, however, in
stormy weather, they are under the necessity of interring their own dead
in the island.

At Pwllheli good accommodation will be found at the Crown and Anchor Inn,
but if proceeding farther into Llyn, the traveller must depend solely on
the hospitality of individuals.



PWLLHELI.


The market-days at this place are Wednesdays and Saturdays.  Its
population is rated at about thirteen hundred.  The beach here is
excellent; and so much resorted to in the summer season, that it appears
probable it will grow into notice as a sea bathing-place.  Several
hundred acres of land in the vicinity of the town, which used to be
overflowed by high tides, have been reclaimed by embankments on both
sides of the town.  It is governed by a mayor, two bailiffs, and a
recorder.

Returning from Pwllheli towards Criccaeth, the country wears the most
beautiful aspect.  The richly wooded scenery is relieved by shaggy rocks
and partial views of the sea being caught through the opening glades.
Passing Llandstundwy, situate on the river Dwyfor, which after heavy
rains overflows its banks, and greatly incommodes it, I left the road,
and proceeded by Trefan Hall, the handsome mansion of Mr. Roberts, to a
cromlech, about a mile distant, called Coeten Arthur, or Arthur’s Quoit,
which the said Arthur, as report says, threw from a mountain near
Beddgelert.  It is handsome and in high preservation: the top stone is
nearly three feet in thickness.  But a still finer cromlech is about a
mile from this, at a farm called Ystim Cegid; the flat stone of this is
about eighteen inches in thickness, and is about thirty-six feet in
circumference: its form is triangular, and its supporters of that height,
that will allow a man on horseback to go under it; this also is called
Arthur’s Quoit.  From hence to Criccaeth the road is dull and
uninteresting: near the ruins of the small chapel of Bettws, is Chewilog,
an old mansion, formerly belonging to the ancestors of Sir Howel,
surnamed y-Fwyall, from his remarkable dexterity in the use of the
battle-axe, which weapon he used with such effect in the battle of
Poictiers, that the capture of the French monarch is, by many, ascribed
to him; at all events, his conduct on that day drew down upon him the
regards of the Black Prince to such extent, that he not only bestowed
upon him the constableship of Criccaeth Castle, but likewise knighted
him; and, in perpetual memorial of his good services, it was directed
that a mess of meat should, at the expence of the crown, be every day
served up before the axe with which he had performed such good service.
After the mess had been brought before the knight, it was taken and
distributed among the poor.  Eight yeomen attendants were constituted to
guard the mess, who received each eight-pence a-day pay, and were termed
yeomen of the crown: these were continued on the establishment till the
reign of Queen Elizabeth; and it is by many conceived, and by no means
improbable, that the yeomen of the crown, which we do not read of in
history till the reign of Henry the Seventh, are indebted to these for
their origin.  After the death of Sir Howel, the mess was still carried
before the axe, and bestowed on the poor for the repose of his soul.
Besides the above honours conferred upon him, he was constable of Chester
Castle; had Dwyfor and others, the king’s mills, to farm; with a grant of
the weirs and fisheries on the coast, and many other offices of great
trust and profit.

Between Criccaeth and Penmorva you pass Stumllyn, formerly the seat of
the Wynnes, now the seat of — Jones, Esq. of Machynlleth.  Near
Clenenney, on Bwlch Craig Wenn, is a fine Druidical circle, consisting at
present of thirty-eight stones; and about a mile from this, above
Penmorva, is another.  On Llysdin farm some small urns, containing human
bones and ashes, have lately been discovered.  At a small distance is
Brynkir, where Lord Lyttleton took up his residence when he visited this
part of the principality.  This part of the country was formerly the seat
of dreadful feuds, and appears to have been inhabited by a most ferocious
and irascible set of beings.  They were of two clans, one descended from
Owen Gwynedd, Prince of North Wales; the other was derived from Collwyn
ap Tangno.  The history of Evionedd, or Eifionydd, is during that period
one of revenge, perfidy, and slaughter; and to such extent was it
carried, that Meredith ap Jevan preferred taking up his residence in
Dolwyddelan Castle, at that time surrounded by robbers and freebooters,
to residing in this district, giving to his friends the following
decisive reason: “If,” said he, “I live in my own house in Evionedd, I
must either kill my own kinsmen, or submit to be murdered by them.”  He,
therefore, rather chose to fight with thieves and outlaws than with his
own immediate relatives.

“They would quarrel,” says Sir John Wynne, “if it was but for the mastery
of the country, and the first good morrow.  John Owen, ap John, ap
Meredydd, and Howel ap Madoc Vychan, fell out for no other reason.  Howel
and his people fought valiantly: when he fell, his mother placed her hand
on his head, to prevent the fatal blow, and had half her hand and three
of her fingers cut off, by some of her nearest kindred.  An attempt was
made to kill Howel ap Rhys, in his own house, by the sons of John ap
Meredith, for no other reason than that their servants had quarrelled
about a fishery.  The first set fire to the mansion with great bundles of
straw:—the besieged, terrified with the flames, sheltered themselves
under forms and benches, while Rhys, the old hero, stood sword in hand,
reproaching his men with cowardice, and telling them he had often seen a
greater smoke in that hall on Christmas even.

“These flagitious deeds seldom met with any other punishment than what
resulted from private revenge, and too often composition was made for the
most horrible murders.  There was a _gwerth_, or price of blood, from the
slaughter of a king, to the cutting off one of his subject’s little
fingers.”—_Williams’s Caernarvon_.



PENMORFA,


the Head of the Marsh, is a wood-clad village, romantically situated in a
nook, between some high rocks at the end of a tract of meadows, on the
western bank of Traeth Mawr.

The church contains a monument to the memory of Sir John Owen, a valiant
commander in the army, and a staunch supporter of Charles I.  Being tried
with the Earl of Holland, Lords Loughborough, Goring, and other noble
supporters of the royal cause, after the death of the king, he exhibited
a spirit coinciding with his former noble daring; and, on being condemned
to lose his head, he bowed to the court, thanking them for the honour
they intended him.  On being asked by a member what he meant, in his
usual blunt manner he replied, “I think it a great honour for a poor
gentleman of Wales to lose his head with such noble lords:—by G—, I was
afraid you would have hanged me.”

Great intercession being made for the other noble personages, and no one
applying or interesting themselves on behalf of Sir John, Cromwell, as
related by some authorities, and Hutchinson and Ireton, as stated by
others, interfered for the worthy knight, whose life was spared: after a
few months’ confinement he was allowed to retire to Clenenney, where he
died.

Mr. Williams, rector of Llanberis, from whose work, recently published,
on the history, antiquities, &c. of Caernarvonshire, I before quoted,
says, in speaking of the situation of Penmorfa, and the meadows lying
between it and Traeth Mawr, “they were formerly subject to the
overflowing of the higher tides, till an embankment was made by W. A.
Madox, Esq. a gentleman to whom this part of the country is greatly
indebted for numerous and great improvements, particularly for the
erection of an embankment, about a mile in length, in order to reclaim
some thousand acres of land, and which now forms a safe and convenient
road between the counties of Caernarvon and Merioneth, across the estuary
of Traeth Mawr; whereas, formerly, many lives were lost in going over
those dangerous sands.  Tremadoc, a new town, which bears the name of its
founder, is about a mile distant from Penmorfa, and contains from eighty
to a hundred houses.  Here is a handsome new church, a market-place, a
comfortable inn, and a great number of good shops.  Near the town are
several good houses, built by the same gentleman, particularly
Tan-yr-Allt, Morva Lodge, &c.; all of which, as well as every thing in or
about this little town, evidently prove the individual who planned and
conducted the whole, to be a person of cultivated mind, improved taste,
and superior judgment and ability.  A market has been established here,
and the fairs, which used to be at Penmorfa on the following days, March
6, May 14, August 20, September 25, and November 12, have mostly deserted
that place, and are held at Tremadoc.  Here is an excellent salmon
fishery, a good shore for bathing, and a safe harbour for vessels under
120 tons burthen.  It is greatly to be lamented; that the beneficial
improvements by the before-mentioned public-spirited gentleman, W. A.
Madox, Esq. and carried by him to such a state of forwardness, should not
be completed.  In the year 1625, Sir John Wynne, of Gwydir, conceived the
great design of gaining this immense track (Traeth Mawr), as well as the
lesser one (Traeth Bach), from the sea, by means of an embankment; and
for that purpose he implored the assistance of his illustrious
countryman, Sir Hugh Middleton, in a letter which has been preserved,
and, together with that gentleman’s reply, printed in Mr. Pennant’s Tour.
A bridge over Traeth Bach, and a new line of road along the sea-coast to
Barmouth, with a stage coach or some other more regular mode of
conveyance between North and South Wales, particularly during the summer
months, are still left among the desiderata of this portion of the
principality.”

From Tremadoc, an excellent road of about five miles brought us to the
far-famed Pont Aber-Glaslyn, or the bridge of the harbour of the Blue
Lake; and not uncommonly styled the Devil’s Bridge.  This last
appellation has very frequently misled strangers, who, confounding it
with the well-known bridge at Havod, have been much disappointed, their
expectations being raised very high, from the general description of that
place.  Of this, indeed, we found an instance on the very spot.  This
bridge connects the two counties of Merioneth and Caernarvon; being, from
the parapet to the water, forty feet.  From the description of former
tourists, it did not answer our expectations; but the salmon-leap is an
interesting object from the bridge: the height is about fifteen feet;
and, though we observed very many attempt this surprising feat of
agility, not one succeeded.  Some fishermen below soon excited our
curiosity, and salmon was here offered for sale at three-pence per pound.

An intelligent man here offered himself as our guide to the rich
copper-mines, in the vicinity of Pont Aber-Glaslyn.  This miner, having
worked both here and at the Parys Mountain, confidently asserted, that
one pound of this ore was now esteemed equivalent to twice the quantity
produced in Anglesea.  Yet, for a considerable time, little advantage was
derived from the concern, till a company obtained a lease of the mountain
from Mr. Lloyd, the proprietor: and having placed an intelligent agent in
a house near the mines, entered on the concern with that spirit which
merited success.  Stupendous cliffs, by the road side, literally rise
eight hundred and sixty feet perpendicularly, and hang in the most
capricious forms over the torrent; which, straggling amongst the recesses
of stone, is hastening forward to disembogue itself into the estuary of
Traeth Mawr.  The pass is not more than seventy feet; after much rain it
is entirely inundated by the overflowings of the Glaslyn, which reflect,
as in a mirror, the blackness of the impending cliffs.  On the
Caernarvonshire side are several lead mines; but they have not proved
sufficiently rich to reward the labour of working.

The situation of our inn at



BEDDGELERT


is very romantic, and would form an interesting drawing, by taking in a
small bridge of two arches below the house.  It is completely encircled
by lofty mountains, which may be considered as subject to the “cloud-capt
Snowdon.”

Situate at the junction of three vales, its beautiful meadows form a fine
contrast to the surrounding rugged scenery.  The church is small, but
lofty; it is supposed to be erected on the site of an ancient priory of
Augustine monks, dedicated to St. Mary, and founded, according to the
account of Mr. Rymer, in his Fœdera, by Llewelyn ap Iorweth, in gratitude
for the preservation of his son, and as an atonement for the rash effects
of his intemperate rage, so pathetically described in the following poem:
but both the Mr. Williamses, who have written on Caernarvonshire, support
the opinion of its earlier establishment, looking upon it as the most
ancient foundation in the country except Bardsey.  Its revenues,
according to the Reverend P. B. Williams’s account, must have been
considerable; which he likewise accounts for as necessary, from its being
on the great road from England and South Wales to North Wales, and from
Ireland to England.  In order to enable the prior to keep up his usual
hospitality, Edward the First, after it had greatly suffered by fire in
1283, most generously, at his own expense, repaired all the damages; and
Bishop Anian, about the year 1286, to obtain for it benefactions,
remitted to all such benefactors, who truly repented of their sins, forty
days of any penance inflicted on them.


                               BEDDGELERT,
                                   OR,
                          THE GREYHOUND’S GRAVE.


                           BY WILLIAM SPENCER.

    The spearmen heard the bugle sound,
       And cheerly smiled the morn;
    And many a brach, and many a hound,
       Attend Llewelyn’s horn.

    And still he blew a louder blast,
       And gave a louder cheer;
    “Come, Gelert, why art thou the last
       Llewelyn’s horn to hear?

    “Oh where does faithful Gelert roam?
       The flower of all his race;
    So true, so brave: a lamb at home;
       A lion in the chase.”

    ’Twas only at Llewelyn’s board
       The faithful Gelert fed;
    He watch’d, he serv’d, he cheer’d his lord,
       And centinel’d his bed.

    In sooth, he was a peerless hound,
       The gift of royal John: {166}
    But now no Gelert could be found,
       And all the chase rode on.

    And, now, as over rocks and dells
       The gallant chidings rise,
    All Snowdon’s craggy chaos yells
       With many mingled cries.

    That day Llewelyn little loved
       The chase of hart or hare,
    And scant and small the booty proved,
       For Gelert was not there.

    Unpleased, Llewelyn homeward hied:
       When near the royal seat,
    His truant Gelert he espied,
       Bounding his lord to greet.

    But when he gain’d his castle door,
       Aghast the chieftain stood:
    The hound was smear’d with gouts of gore,
       His lips and fangs ran blood!

    Llewelyn gazed with wild surprise,
       Unused such looks to meet;
    His favourite check’d his joyful guise,
       And crouch’d, and lick’d his feet.

    Onward in haste Llewelyn past,
       And on went Gelert too:
    And still, where’er his eyes he cast,
       Fresh blood-gouts shock’d his view!

    O’erturn’d his infant’s bed he found,
       The blood-stain’d covert rent:
    And all around the walls and ground,
       With recent blood besprent.

    He call’d his child; no voice replied;
       He search’d with terror wild;
    Blood, blood, he found on every side,
       But nowhere found the child!

    “Hell-hound, by thee my child’s devour’d!”
       The frantic father cried:
    And to the hilt the vengeful sword,
       He plunged in Gelert’s side.

    His suppliant, as to earth he fell,
       No pity could impart;
    But still his Gelert’s dying yell
       Past heavy o’er his heart.

    Aroused by Gelert’s dying yell,
       Some slumberer waken’d nigh:
    What words the parent’s joy can tell,
       To hear his infant cry!

    Conceal’d between a mingled heap,
       His hurried search had miss’d;
    All glowing from his rosy sleep,
       His cherub boy he kiss’d!

    Nor scratch had he, nor harm, nor dread,
       But the same couch beneath
    Lay a great wolf, all torn, and dead,
       Tremendous still in death!

    Ah! what was then Llewelyn’s pain!
       For now the truth was clear;
    The gallant hound the wolf had slain,
       To save Llewelyn’s heir.

    Vain, vain was all Llewelyn’s woe;
       “Best of thy kind, adieu!
    The frantic deed which laid thee low,
       This heart shall ever rue!”

    And now a gallant tomb they raise,
       With costly sculpture deckt;
    And marbles storied with his praise
       Poor Gelert’s bones protect.

    Here never could the spearman pass,
       Or forester unmoved;
    Here oft the tear-besprinkled grass
       Llewelyn’s sorrow proved.

    And here he hung his horn and spear,
       And oft, as evening fell,
    In fancy’s piercing sounds would hear
       Poor Gelert’s dying yell!

    And till great Snowdon’s rocks grow old,
       And cease the storm to brave,
    The consecrated spot shall hold
       The name of Gelert’s grave.

Since the author’s first visit, much has been added to the picturesque
scenery of Beddgelert, through the liberal and patriotic spirit of Thomas
Jones of Bryntirion, Esq. the worthy proprietor of this romantic vale.  A
most excellent inn has been erected, and no expense spared in rendering
the accommodations for the tourist and the traveller the most attractive,
as well as the most comfortable.  It is worthy of remark, that this spot
was selected by the monks as favourable to the desponding gloom of popish
superstition.  The parish church, which is situated within a few hundred
yards of this inn, was formerly a part of a priory of Augustine monks,
founded by Anion, Bishop of Bangor, in the thirteenth century; and
supposed by some to be the oldest religious house in Wales.  Part of the
cloisters still remain.  The monastery was destroyed by fire during the
reign of Edward the First.  The present appearance of the vale is,
however, calculated to produce sensations of a very different
description, and presents objects the most alluring to the lovers of
mountain scenery.  The tourist, whether he be a poet, a philosopher, or
an antiquary, will here find abundant sources of recreation to detain him
for some days.  Within the distance of an hour’s walk from the inn, are
situated



THE VALE OF NANHWYNAN,


beautifully diversified by thriving plantations and elegant villas.  In
this vale stands Dinas Emrys, or the Castle of Ambrosius, to which
Vortigern is said to have fled for refuge, after having called in the
Saxons; by which he for some time avoided the odium and persecution of
his countrymen.



THE PASS OF DRWSYCOED,


commanding a most splendid view of the lakes of Nantlle, including the
floating island, mentioned by Camden, the sea being also visible at a
distance.  Here King Edward is said to have encamped his army in his last
expedition into Wales, when he completed the subjugation of the country.

Beddgelert is now a thoroughfare, with a good road from Caernarvon to
Dolgelly, Welsh Pool, Shrewsbury, Bishop’s Castle, Ludlow, and Worcester;
it is therefore a most convenient station from whence to make excursions
to some of the most interesting scenery in North Wales, among the first
of which is the ascent of the mighty and once wood-covered Snowdon.

How often has the idea of this stupendous mountain filled my heart with
enthusiastic rapture!  Every time I cast my eyes on that solemn, that
majestic vision, it is not without the most powerful emotion; it excites
that tender melancholy, which exalts rather than depresses the mind!  How
delightful to bid adieu to all the cares and occupations of the world,
for the reflection of those scenes of sublimity and grandeur, which form
such a contrast to the transientness of sublunary greatness!  With what
anxiety have we watched the setting sun, loitering just below the
horizon, and illuminating the highest summit of Snowdon with a golden
tinge; and we still watch the passing clouds of night, fearing lest the
morning should prove unfavourable for our Alpine excursion!



SNOWDON.


We engaged the miner {170} as our conductor over the mountain, who
entertained us much with displaying, in strong colours, the tricks and
impositions of his brother guides. {171}

At half-past twelve we started from our inn, determined to see the sun
rise from its highest summit.  The night was now very dark, and we could
just discover that the top of Snowdon was entirely enveloped in a thick
impenetrable mist: this unpropitious omen staggered our resolutions; and
we for some time hesitated respecting our farther progress; but our guide
assuring us that his comfortable cottage was not far distant, we again
plucked up resolution; and, quitting the high way about two miles on the
Caernarvon road, we turned to the right, through a boggy, unpleasant
land, and in danger of losing our shoes every step we took.  This soon
brought us to the comfortable cot, the filth and dirtiness of which can
better be imagined than described; a worm-eaten bed, two small stools,
and table fixed to the wall, composed the whole of his furniture; two
fighting-cocks were perched on a beam, which Thomas seemed to pride
himself in the possession of: the smoke of the fire ascended through a
small hole in the roof of this comfortable mansion, the door of which did
not appear proof against the “churlish chiding of the winter blast.”

Such, indeed, was the situation of this Cambrian mountaineer: and,
though, in our own opinion, misery, poverty, and dirt personified, seemed
to be the real inhabitants of this cottage, yet there was something
prepossessing in his character; for, frequently, with the greatest
vehemence imaginable, and in the true style of an anchorite, he declared,
that, “though he boasted not riches, yet he boasted of independence; and
though he possessed not wealth, yet he possessed the home of happiness,
an honest breast.”

The morning appearing to wear a more favourable aspect, we again sallied
forth; the bogs, however, still rendered it extremely unpleasant.  But
this inconvenience was only temporary; we soon came to a part of the
mountain entirely composed of loose stones and fragments of rock, which
affording only a very treacherous footing, you are liable to perpetual
falls.  The mountain now became much steeper, the path less rocky, and
our mountaineer, the higher we proceeded, more induced to exhibit feats
of his agility, by occasionally running down a short precipice, and then,
by a loud shout of vociferation, shewing us the obedience of the sheep,
who instantaneously flocked around him at the sound of his voice: it is
singular, the caution implanted in this animal, by instinct, for the
mutual protection of each other; from the liberty they enjoy, they seldom
congregate in one flock, but are generally discovered grazing in parties
from six to a dozen, one of which is regularly appointed centinel, to
watch the motions of their inveterate enemies (foxes and birds of prey),
which infest this mountain.  A wider expanse of the hemisphere disclosed
itself, and every object below us gradually diminished as we ascended.
The freshness of the mountain whetted our appetites; and our conductor,
with very little persuasion, soon influenced us to open our little basket
of provisions.  The sun, the “rich-hair’d youth of morn,” was just
peeping from his bed; and having refreshed ourselves, with eager
impatience, we again climbed the rugged precipice; for we had still a
considerable height to ascend.  We now passed several steep declivities
by a narrow path not more than three yards wide, with a dreadful
perpendicular on each side, the sight of which almost turned us giddy.
As we were passing this hazardous path, a thick mist enveloped us, and an
impenetrable abyss appeared on both sides; the effect, indeed, can
scarcely be conceived; our footing, to us, puisne mountaineers, seemed
very insecure; and a total destruction would have been the consequence of
one false step.  The air grew intensely cold, and, by our guide’s
recommendation, we a second time produced our pistol of rum, diluted with
milk; but this cordial must be used with caution, as a very small
quantity of strong liquor affects the head, owing to the rarefaction of
the air.  On our reaching the summit, all our difficulties were
forgotten, and our imaginary complaints overborne with exclamations of
wonder, surprise, and admiration.  The light, thin, misty cloud, which
had for some time enveloped us, as if by enchantment, suddenly dispersed;
the whole ocean appeared illuminated by a fiery substance, and all the
subject hills below us, for they resembled mole-hills, were gradually
tinged by the rich glow of the sun; whose orb becoming at length
distinctly visible, displayed the whole island of Anglesea so distinctly,
that we descried, as in a map, its flat and uncultivated plains, bounded
by the rich and inexhaustible Parys mountains, in the vicinity of
Holyhead.  The point on which we were standing did not exceed a square of
five yards, and we sickened almost at the sight of the steep precipices
which environed us; round it is a small parapet, formed by the customary
tribute of all strangers, who visit this summit, and to which we likewise
contributed, by placing a large stone on its top; this parapet, indeed,
sheltered us from the chilly cold, and protected us from the piercing
wind, to which this height must naturally be exposed.

We remained in this situation for a considerable time, and endeavoured,
without success, to enumerate the several lakes, forests, woods, and
counties, which were exposed to us in one view; but lost and confounded
with the innumerable objects worthy of admiration, and regardless of the
chilling cold, we took a distinct survey of the Isle of Man, together
with a faint prospect of the Highlands in Ireland, which appeared just
visibly skirting the distant horizon; but another object soon engrossed
all our attention:

    “The wide, the unbounded prospect lay before us;
    But shadows, clouds, and darkness, rest upon it:”

For we unexpectedly observed long billows of vapour tossing about, half
way down the mountain, totally excluding the country below, and
occasionally dispersing, and partially revealing, its features; while
above, the azure expanse of the heavens remained unobscured by the
thinnest mist.  This, however, was of no long continuance: a thick cloud
presently wet us through; and the point on which we were standing could
alone be distinguished.  As there appeared little or no chance of the
clouds dispersing, we soon commenced our descent.  Respecting this Alpine
excursion, suffice it to say, that though our expectations were raised
exceedingly high, it infinitely surpassed all conception, and baffled all
description; for no colour of language can paint the grandeur of the
rising sun, observed from this eminence, or describe the lakes, woods,
and forests, which are extended before you; for description, though it
enumerates their names, yet it cannot draw the elegance of outline,
cannot give the effect of precipices, or delineate the minute features,
which reward the actual observer, at every new choice of his position;
and, by changing their colour and form in his gradual ascent, till at
last every object dwindles into atoms: in short, this interesting
excursion, which comprehends every thing that is awful, grand, and
sublime, producing the most pleasing sensations, has left traces in the
memory which the imagination will ever hold dear.

The view from the summit of Snowdon is thus described by the author of
the Beauties, Harmonies, and Sublimities of Nature.

    “After climbing over masses of crags and rocks, we ascended the peak
    of Snowdon, the height of which is 3571 feet above the level of the
    Irish Sea.  Arrived at its summit, a scene presented itself,
    magnificent beyond the powers of language!  Indeed, language is
    indigent and impotent, when it would presume to sketch scenes, on
    which the Great Eternal has placed his matchless finger with delight.
    Faint are thy broad and deep delineations, immortal Salvator Rosa!
    Powerless and feeble are your inspirations, Genius of Thomson,
    Virgil, and Lucretius!

    “From this point are seen more than five-and-twenty lakes.  Seated on
    one of the crags, it was long before the eye, unaccustomed to measure
    such elevations, could accommodate itself to scenes so admirable:—the
    whole appearing as if there had been a war of the elements; and as if
    we were the only inhabitants of the globe permitted to contemplate
    the ruins of the world.  Rocks and mountains, which, when observed
    from below, bear all the evidences of sublimity, when viewed from the
    summit of Snowdon, are blended with others as dark, as rugged, and as
    elevated as themselves; the whole resembling the swellings of an
    agitated ocean.

    “The extent of this prospect appears almost unlimited.  The four
    kingdoms are seen at once: Wales, England, Scotland, and Ireland!
    forming the finest panorama the empire can boast.  The circle begins
    with the mountains of Cumberland and Westmoreland; those of
    Ingleborough and Penygent, in the county of York, and the hills of
    Lancashire forefollow: then are observed the counties of Chester,
    Flint, Denbigh, and a portion of Montgomeryshire.  Nearly the whole
    of Merioneth succeeds; and drawing a line with the eye along the
    diameter of the circle, we take in the regions, stretching from the
    triple crown of Cader Idris to the sterile crags of Carnedds-David,
    and Llewelyn.  Snowdon, rising in the centre, appears as if he could
    touch the south with his right hand, and the north with his left.
    ‘Surely,’ thought Colonna, ‘Cæsar sat upon these crags, when he
    formed the daring conception of governing the world!’

    “From Cader Idris, the eye, pursuing the orbit of the bold
    geographical outline, glances over the bay of Cardigan, and reposes
    for a while on the summit of the Rivel.  After observing the indented
    shores of Caernarvonshire, it travels over a long line of ocean,
    till, in the extremity of the horizon, the blue mountains of Wicklow
    terminate the perspective.  Those mountains gradually sink along the
    coast, till they are lost to the eye; which, ranging along the
    expanse, at length, as weary of the journey, reposes on the Island of
    Man, and the distant mountains of Scotland.  The intermediate space
    is occupied by the sides and summits of mountains, hollow crags,
    masses of rocks, the towers of Caernarvon, the fields of Anglesea,
    with woods, lakes, and glens, scattered in magnificent confusion.  A
    scene like this commands our feelings to echo, as it were, in unison
    to its grandeur and sublimity: the thrill of astonishment and the
    transport of admiration seem to contend for the mastery; and nerves
    are touched that never thrilled before.  We seem as if our former
    existence were annihilated; and as if a new epoch were commenced.
    Another world opens upon us; and an unlimited orbit appears to
    display itself, as a theatre for our ambition.”

The first two miles of our descent we by no means found difficult, but
wishing to take a minute survey of the picturesque Pass of Llanberris, we
changed the route generally prescribed to strangers, and descended a
rugged and almost perpendicular path, in opposition to the proposals of
our guide, who strenuously endeavoured to dissuade us from the attempt;
alleging the difficulty of the steep, and relating a melancholy story of
a gentleman, who many years back had broken his leg.  This had no effect:
we determined to proceed; and the vale of Llanberris amply rewarded us
for the trouble.

Mr. Williams, of Llandegai, in his observations on the Snowdon mountains
(which, from his having been a resident on the spot, may be considered as
entitled to the greatest credit,) makes the following remarks on the
probable derivation of their names, and the customs and manners of their
inhabitants.

“It would be endless to point out the absurd conjectures and
misrepresentations of those who have of late years undertaken to describe
this country.  Some give manifestly wrong interpretations of the names of
places, and others, either ignorantly or maliciously, have as it were
caricatured its inhabitants.  Travellers from England, often from want of
candour, and always from defect of necessary knowledge, impose upon the
world unfavourable as well as false accounts of their fellow-subjects in
Wales; yet the candour of the Welsh is such, that they readily ascribe
such misrepresentations to an ignorance of their language, and a
misconception of the honest, though perhaps warm temper of those that
speak it.  And it may be, travellers are too apt to abuse the Welsh,
because they cannot or will not speak English.  _Their ignorance ought
not to incur disgust_: _their reluctance proceeds not from stubbornness_,
_but from diffidence_, _and the fear of ridicule_.


“NATIVES OF ERYRI.


“The inhabitants of the British mountains are so humane and hospitable,
that a stranger may travel amongst them without incurring any expense for
diet or lodging.  Their fare an Englishman may call coarse; however, they
commonly in farm-houses have three sorts of bread, namely, wheat, barley,
and oatmeal; but the oatmeal they chiefly use; this, with milk, butter,
cheese, and potatoes, is their chief summer food.  They have also plenty
of excellent trout, which they eat in its season.  And for the winter
they have dry salted beef, mutton, and smoked rock venison, which they
call _Côch ar Wyden_, i.e. _The Red upon the Withe_, being hung by a
withe, made of a willow or hazel twig.  They very seldom brew ale, except
in some of the principal farm-houses: having no corn of their own
growing, they think it a superfluous expense to throw away money for malt
and hops, when milk, or butter-milk mixed with water, quenches the thirst
as well.

“They are hardy and very active; but they have not the perseverance and
resolution which are necessary for laborious or continued undertakings,
being, from their infancy, accustomed only to ramble over the hills after
their cattle.  In summer they go barefoot, but seldom barelegged, as has
been lately asserted by a traveller.  They are shrewd and crafty in their
bargains, and jocular in their conversation; very sober, and great
economists; though a late tourist has given them a different character.
Their greetings, when they meet any one of their acquaintance, may to
some appear tedious and disagreeable: their common mode of salutation is
‘How is thy heart? how the good wife at home, the children, and the rest
of the family?’ and that often repeated.  When they meet at a
public-house, they will drink each other’s health, or the health of him
to whom the mug goes at every round.  They are remarkably honest.

“Their courtships, marriages, &c. differ in nothing from what is
practised on these occasions among the lowlanders or other Welsh people;
but as there are some distinct and local customs in use in North Wales,
not adopted in other parts of Great Britain, I shall, by way of novelty,
relate a few of them:—When Cupid lets fly his shaft at a youthful heart,
the wounded swain seeks for an opportunity to have a private conversation
with the object of his passion, which is usually obtained at a fair, or
at some other public meeting; where he, if bold enough, accosts her, and
treats her with wine and cakes.  But he that is too bashful will employ a
friend to break the ice for him, and disclose the sentiments of his
heart: the fair one, however, disdains proxies of this kind, and he that
is bold, forward, and facetious, has a greater chance of prevailing,
especially if he has courage enough to steal a few kisses: she will then
probably engage to accept of his nocturnal visit the next Saturday night.
When the happy hour arrives, neither the darkness of the night, the
badness of the weather, nor the distance of the place, will discourage
him, so as to abandon his engagement.  When he reaches the spot, he
conceals himself in some out-building, till the family go to rest.  His
fair friend alone knows of and awaits his coming.  After admittance into
the house a little chat takes place at the fire-side, and then, if every
thing is friendly, they agree to throw themselves on a bed, if there is
an empty one in the house; when Strephon takes off his shoes and coat,
and Phillis only her shoes; and covering themselves with a blanket or
two, they chat there till the morning dawn, and then the lover steals
away as privately as he came.  And this is the bundling or _courting in
bed_, {181} for which the Welsh are so much bantered by strangers.

“This courtship often lasts for years, ere the swain can prevail upon his
mistress to accept of his hand.  Now and then a pregnancy precedes
marriage, but very seldom, or never, before a mutual promise of entering
into the marriage state is made.  When a matrimonial contract is thus
entered into, the parents and friends of each party are apprised of it,
and an invitation to the wedding takes place; where, at the appointed
wedding-day, every guest that dines drops his shilling, besides payment
for what he drinks.  The company very often amounts to two or three
hundred, and sometimes more.  This donation is intended to assist the
young couple to buy bed-clothes, and other articles necessary to begin
the world.  Nor does the friendly bounty stop here: when the woman is
brought to bed, the neighbours meet at the christening, out of free
good-will, without invitation, where they drop their money; usually a
shilling to the woman in the straw, sixpence to the midwife, and sixpence
to the cook; more or less, according to the ability and generosity of the
giver.


“MODE OF BURYING.


“When the parish bell announces the death of a person, it is immediately
inquired upon what day the funeral is to be; and on the night preceding
that day all the neighbours assemble at the house where the corpse is,
which they call Ty Corph, i.e. ‘the corpse’s house.’  The coffin, with
the remains of the deceased, is then placed on the stools, in an open
part of the house, covered with black cloth, or, if the deceased was
unmarried, with a clean white sheet, with three candles burning on it.
Every person on entering the house falls devoutly on his knees before the
corpse, and repeats to himself the Lord’s Prayer, or any other prayer
that he chooses.  Afterwards, if he is a smoker, a pipe and tobacco are
offered to him.  This meeting is called Gwylnos, and in some places
Pydreua.  The first word means Vigil; the other is, no doubt, a corrupt
word from Paderau, or Padereuau, that is, Paters, or Paternosters.  When
the assembly is full, the parish clerk reads the common service appointed
for the burial of the dead: at the conclusion of which psalms, hymns, and
other godly songs are sung; and since Methodism is become so universal,
some one stands up and delivers an oration on the melancholy subject, and
then the company drop away by degrees.  On the following day the
interment takes place, between two and four o’clock in the afternoon,
when all the neighbours assemble again.  It is not uncommon to see on
such occasions an assembly of three or four hundred people, or even more.
These persons are all treated with warm spiced ale, cakes, pipes, and
tobacco; and a dinner is given to all those that come from far: I mean,
that such an entertainment is given at the funerals of respectable
farmers. {183a}  They then proceed to the church; and at the end of that
part of the burial service, which is usually read in the church, before
the corpse is taken from the church, every one of the congregation
presents the officiating minister with a piece of money; the deceased’s
next relations usually drop a shilling each, others sixpence, and the
poorer sort a penny a-piece, laying it on the altar.  This is called
offering, and the sum amounts sometimes to eight, ten, or more pounds at
a burial.  The parish clerk has also his offering at the grave, which
amounts commonly to about one-fourth of what the clergyman received.
After the burial is over the company retire to the public-house, where
every one spends his sixpence for ale; {183b} then all ceremonies are
over.”

Mr. W. then proceeds to explain the good and ill resulting from the
prevalence of Methodism, and those fanatics termed Ranters, &c. and
states, that “the mountain people preserve themselves, in a great
measure, a distinct race from the lowlanders: they but very seldom come
down to the lowlands for wives; nor will the lowlander often climb up the
craggy steeps, and bring down a mountain spouse to his cot.  Their
occupations are different, and it requires that their mates should be
qualified for such different modes of living.

“I will not scruple to affirm, that these people have no strange blood in
their veins,—that they are the true offspring of the ancient Britons:
they, and their ancestors, from time immemorial, have inhabited the same
districts, and, in one degree or other, they are all relations.”

The vale of Llanberris is bounded by the steep precipices of Snowdon, and
two large lakes, communicating by a river.  It was formerly a large
forest, but the woods are now entirely cut down.  We here dismissed our
Cambrian mountaineer, and easily found our way to Dolbadern (pronounced
Dolbathern) Castle, situated between the two lakes, and now reduced to
one circular tower, thirty feet in diameter, with the foundations of the
exterior buildings completely in ruins.  In this Owen Gôch, brother to
Llewellin, last prince, was confined in prison.  This tower appears to
have been the keep or citadel, about ninety feet in height, with a
vaulted dungeon.  At the extremity of the lower lake are the remains of a
British fortification, called Caer cwm y Glô; and about half a mile from
the castle, to the south, at the termination of a deep glen, is a
waterfall, called Caunant Mawr; it rushes over a ledge of rocks upwards
of twenty yards in height, falls some distance in an uninterrupted sheet,
and then dashes with a tremendous roar through the impending fragments of
the rock, till it reaches the more quiet level of the vale.  Returning to
the lakes, you have a fine view of the ruins, with the promontory on
which they are situated; and that with greatly heightened effect, if
favoured by their reflection on the glassy surface of the waters, to
which you add the rocky heights on each side; Llanberris church relieving
the mountain scenery, and the roughest and most rugged cliffs of Snowdon
in the back-ground topping the whole, which give together a grand and
pleasing coup-d’œil.

In this vicinity are large slate quarries, the property of Thomas Asheton
Smith, Esq. and a rich vein of copper ore.  These afford employ to great
numbers of industrious poor: to the men, in obtaining the ore and slates,
and the women and children in breaking, separating, and preparing the
different sorts for exportation, or for undergoing farther preparatory
processes to fit them for smelting.  From hence a rugged horse-path
brought us to the Caernarvon turnpike-road, about six miles distant; the
high towers of the castle, the very crown and paragon of the landscape,
at last pointed out the situation of



CAERNARVON;


and having crossed a handsome modern stone bridge thrown over the river
Seiont, and built by “Harry Parry, the modern Inigo, A.D. 1791,” we soon
entered this ancient town, very much fatigued from our long excursion.

The town of Caernarvon, beautifully situated and regularly built, is in
the form of a square, enclosed on three sides with thick stone walls; and
on the south side defended by the castle.

The towers are extremely elegant; but not being entwined with ivy, do not
wear that picturesque appearance which castles generally possess.  Over
the principal entrance, which leads into an oblong court, is seated,
beneath a great tower, the statue of the founder, holding in his left
hand a dagger: this gateway was originally fortified with four
portcullises.  At the west end the eagle tower, remarkably light and
beautiful, in a polygon form; three small hexagon turrets rising from the
middle, with eagles placed on their battlements; from thence it derives
its name.  In a little dark room {186} in this tower, measuring eleven
feet by seven, was born King Edward II. April 25, 1284.  The thickness of
the wall is about ten feet.  To the top of the tower we reckoned one
hundred and fifty-eight steps; from whence an extensive view of the
adjacent country is seen to great advantage.  On the south are three
octagonal towers, with small turrets, with similar ones on the north.
All these towers communicate with each other by a gallery, both on the
ground, middle, and upper floor, formed within the immense thickness of
the walls, in which are cut narrow slips, at convenient distances, for
the discharge of arrows.

This building, founded on a rock, is the work of King Edward I. the
conqueror of the principality; the form of it is a long irregular square,
enclosing an area of about two acres and a half.  From the information of
the Sebright manuscript, Mr. Pennant says, that, by the united efforts of
the peasants, it was erected within the space of one year.

Having spent near three hours in surveying one of the noblest castles in
Wales, we walked round the environs of the town.  The terrace {187} round
the castle wall, when in existence, was exceedingly pleasing, being in
front of the Menai, which is here upwards of a mile in breadth, forming a
safe harbour, and is generally crowded with vessels, exhibiting a picture
of national industry; whilst near it a commodious quay presents an
ever-bustling scene, from whence a considerable quantity of slate, and
likewise copper, from the Llanberris mine, is shipped for different parts
of the kingdom.

Caernarvon may certainly be considered as one of the handsomest and
largest towns in North Wales; and under the patronage of the Marquess of
Anglesea promises to become still more populous and extensive.

In Bangor-street is the Anglesea Arms hotel, a large and most respectable
inn; where, as well as the Goat, the charges are moderate and the
accommodations excellent.

Caernarvon is only a township and chapelry to Llanbeblic.  Its market is
on a Saturday, which is well supplied and reasonable; and with the
spirited improvements made to the town and harbour, has been the means of
greatly increasing its population: according to the late returns it
contains 1008 houses, and 6000 inhabitants.  The church, or rather
chapel, has been rebuilt by subscription.  Service is performed here in
English, and at the mother church at Llanbeblic {188} in Welsh.

The port, although the Aber sand-banks, forming a dangerous bar, must
ever be a great drawback upon it, has not only been wonderfully improved,
but is in that progressive state of improvement by the modern mode of
throwing out piers, that vessels can now, of considerable tonnage, lie
alongside the quay, and discharge or take in their cargoes in perfect
safety; this bids fair, as may be seen by the rapid increase of its
population and tonnage, to make it a place of trade and considerable
resort: yet still it only ranks as a creek, and its custom-house is made
dependent on that of the haven of Beaumaris, to the comptroller of which
its officer is obliged to report: this must be a considerable hindrance
to its trade, particularly in matters out of the customary routine.  The
county hall, which is near the castle, is a low building, but
sufficiently commodious within to hold with convenience the great
sessions.  Caernarvon possessed such great favour with Edward the First,
as to have the first royal charter granted in Wales given to it.  It is
by that constituted a free borough.  It has one alderman, one deputy
mayor, two bailiffs, a town-clerk, two serjeants at mace, and a mayor;
who, for the time, is governor of the castle, and is allowed 200_l._ per
annum to keep it in repair.  It jointly with Conway, Nevin, Criccaeth,
and Pwllheli, sends a member to parliament, for the return of whom every
inhabitant, resident or non-resident, who has been admitted to the
freedom of the place, possesses a vote.

It is allowed to have a prison for petty offences independent of the
sheriff.  Its burgesses likewise were exempt throughout the kingdom from
tollage, lastage, passage, murage, pontage, and all other impositions of
whatever kind, with other privileges, too numerous to insert.

The county prison is likewise near the castle.  It was erected in the
year 1794.  The new market-house, containing the butchers’ shambles, &c.
is a well-contrived and convenient building, affording good storage for
corn and other articles left unsold.

The site of the ancient town of Segontium, which lies about half a mile
south of the present one, will be found worthy the attention of the
traveller; it was the only Roman station of note in this part of Cambria,
on which a long chain of minor forts and posts were dependent.  It is
even maintained, and that by respectable authorities, that it was not
only the residence but burial-place of Constantius, father of Constantine
the Great; but most probably this arises from confusing Helena, the
daughter of Octavius, Duke of Cornwall, who was born at Segontium, and
married to Maximus, first cousin of Constantine, with Helena, his mother,
whom these authorities assert to have been the daughter of a British
king.  A chapel, said to have been founded by Helen, and a well which
bears her name, are amongst the ruins still pointed out.

Since the numerous late improvements have been going forward at and near
Caernarvon, new and interesting lights have been thrown on the ruins in
its vicinity, which will form a rich treat to the antiquary.

Near the banks of the Seint, from which Segontium took its name, and
which runs from the lower lake of Llanberris, are the remains of a fort,
which appears to have been calculated to cover a landing-place from the
river at the time of high water: it is of an oblong shape, and includes
an area of about an acre; one of the walls which is now standing is about
seventy-four yards, and the other sixty-four yards long, in height from
ten to twelve feet, and nearly six feet in thickness.  The peculiar plan
of the Roman masonry is here particularly discernible, exhibiting
alternate layers, the one regular, the other zig-zag; on these their
fluid mortar was poured, which insinuated itself into all the
interstices, and set so strong as to form the whole into one solid mass;
retaining its texture even to the present day, to such a degree, that the
bricks and stone in the Roman walls yield as easy as the cement.

English history has spoken so fully on this place, as connected with
Edward the First, on the title, which he, from his son being born in this
castle, so artfully claimed for him, and the future heirs apparent to the
British throne, as affording to the Welsh a prince of their own,
agreeable to their wishes, and the quiet annexation of the principality
to his dominions, which Edward by this means obtained, that it appears
superfluous to enlarge upon it in this work.

Several excursions may be made from Caernarvon, with great satisfaction
to the tourist; the principal of which is a visit to



PLAS-NEWYDD,


the elegant seat of the Marquis of Anglesea, situated in the Isle of
Anglesea, and distant about six miles from Caernarvon.  If the wind and
tide prove favourable, the picturesque scenery of the Menai will be
viewed to great advantage by hiring a boat at the quay. {191}  But if
this most advisable plan should not be approved of, the walk to the
Moel-y-don ferry, about five miles on the Bangor road, will prove highly
gratifying.  The Menai, whose banks are studded with gentlemen’s seats,
appearing scarcely visible between the rich foliage of the oak, which
luxuriates to the water’s brink, is filled with vessels, whose shining
sails, fluttering in the wind, attract and delight the observing eye;
whilst the voice of the sailors, exchanging some salute with the passing
vessel, is gently wafted on the breeze.

Crossing the ferry, we soon reached the ancient residence of the
arch-druid of Britain, where was formerly stationed the most celebrated
of the ancient British academies: from this circumstance many places in
this island still retain their original appellation, as Myfyrim, the
place of studies: Caer Idris, the city of astronomy; Cerrig Boudin, the
astronomer’s circle.  The shore to the right soon brought us to the
plantations of Plâs-Newydd, consisting chiefly of the most venerable
oaks, and noblest ash in this part of the country:

    —“Superior to the pow’r
       Of all the warring winds of heaven they rise;
    And from the stormy promontory tower,
       And toss their giant arms amid the skies;
    While each assailing blast increasing strength supplies.”

                                                       BEATTIE’S MINSTREL.

Beneath their “broad brown branches” we discovered several cromlechs, the
monuments of Druidical superstition; several stones of enormous size
support two others placed horizontally over them. {192}  For what purpose
these ancient relics were originally erected, it is not for us puisne
antiquarians to discuss; and with eager impatience we hurried to visit
the noble mansion, which has not yet received the finishing stroke of the
architect; sufficient, however, is accomplished to form a conjecture of
its intended splendour and magnificence.  The whole is built, stables
included, in a Gothic castellated form, of a dark slate-coloured stone:
on entering the vestibule, we, for a short time, imagined ourselves in
the chapel, a mistake, though soon discovered, to which every visitor is
liable; the ceiling having Gothic arches, with a gallery suitable to it,
and several niches cut in the side walls: we were next conducted through
a long suite of apartments, the design of them all equally convenient and
elegant.  The landscape from the Gothic windows is both beautiful and
sublime: a noble plantation of trees, the growth of ages; the winding
strait of the Menai, gay with vessels passing and repassing: and, beyond
this tranquil scene, the long range of the Snowdon mountains shooting
into the clouds, the various hues of whose features appear as beautiful
as their magnitude is sublime.  The house is protected from the
encroachments of the sea by a strong parapet embattled wall; in fine,
this magnificent seat of the gallant Marquis seems to possess many
conveniences peculiar to its situation: the warm and cold baths,
constantly filled by the Menai, are sequestered and commodious, and every
part of the house is abundantly supplied with water.

Since the last edition of this work was published, this splendid
residence has been finished in a style corresponding to the promises it
held forth, and now ranks amongst the first in the principality.

The park, though small, is well wooded, and laid out with taste; and the
woods extending along the bold cliffs of the Menai, with the parapeted
bastion wall, which supports the terrace at the bottom of the lawn, cause
this elegant edifice, with its turrets and gilded vanes, surrounded by
its venerable groves, to be viewed to great advantage from the water or
opposite shore.  The front is composed of a centre nearly semilunar, with
two wings semioctagonal; these receive a bold and happy finish from
octagonal turrets rising from the basement of each angle of the front and
wings, several feet above the embattled parapet, finishing in small
spires surmounted by gilt vanes.

Behind the house are two of the largest cromlechs; the upper stone of one
is twelve feet seven inches long, twelve broad, and four thick, supported
by five upright ones; the other is close to the first, and is only about
five feet and a half square.

Not far from these is a carnedd, part of which is destroyed; within was
found a cell, about seven feet long and three wide, covered with two flat
stones.  On the top of the stones were two semicircular holes, for what
purpose intended I leave to others to determine; some conceive they were
places of confinement, and these holes served as stocks, in which to
secure the victims of the Druidical sacrifices; but let us rather hope
not; for as the learned of those days here for a period found a shelter,
and as these woods

    “Were tenanted by bards, who nightly thence,
    Rob’d in their flowery vests of innocent white,
    Issued with harps, that glitter to the moon,
    Hymning immortal strains:”

                                                       MASON’S CARACTACUS.

we may as reasonably conceive that learning, poetry, music, and religion,
would soothe and soften the angry passions of the soul, as that they
would rouse to the horrid immolation of human sacrifices.

Being unavoidably prevented at this time from visiting the celebrated
Parys Mountain, the property of the Marquis of Anglesea and Colonel
Hughes, we again returned to the hotel at Caernarvon; purposing to stay
the following day (Sunday), with the intention of making a strict enquiry
into the religious sect, settled here, and in many parts of Wales, called
Jumpers. {195}

The account we had received from our landlord, we imagined, was
exaggerated; and this more strongly induced us to visit the chapel, that
we might be enabled, in future, to contradict this ridiculous report.

At six in the evening the congregation assembled; and, on our entrance
into the chapel, we observed, on the north side, from a sort of stage or
pulpit, erected on the occasion, a man, in appearance a common
day-labourer, holding forth to an ignorant and deluded multitude.  Our
entrance at first seemed to excite a general dissatisfaction; and our
near neighbours, as if conscious of their eccentricities, muttered bitter
complaints against the admittance of strangers.  The chapel, which was
not divided into pews, and even destitute of seats, contained near a
hundred people: half way round was erected a gallery.  The preacher
continued raving, and, indeed, foaming at the mouth, in a manner too
shocking to relate:—he allowed himself no time to breathe, but, seemingly
intoxicated, uttered the most dismal howls and groans imaginable, which
were answered by the congregation, so loud as occasionally to drown even
the voice of the preacher.  At last, being nearly exhausted by continual
vociferation, and fainting from exertion, he sunk down in the pulpit.
The meeting, however, did not disperse: a psalm was immediately sung by a
man, who, we imagined, officiated as clerk, accompanied by the whole
congregation.  The psalm had not continued long before we observed part
of the assembly, to our great surprise, jumping in small parties of
three, four, and sometimes five in a set, lifting up their hands, beating
their breasts, and making the most horrid gesticulations.  Each
individual separately jumped, regularly succeeding one another, while the
rest generally assisted the jumper by the help of their hands.  The women
always appeared more vehement than the men, and infinitely surpassed them
in numbers: seeming to endeavour to excel each other in jumping,
screaming, and howling.  We observed, indeed, that many of them lost
their shoes, hats, and bonnets, with the utmost indifference, and never
condescended to search after them; in this condition, it is not unusual
to meet them jumping to their homes.  Their meetings are twice a week,
Wednesdays and Sundays.  Having accidentally met with a gentleman, at the
hotel, a native of Siberia, we invited him to our party; and, induced by
curiosity, he readily accompanied us to the chapel.  On the commencement
of the jumping, he entreated us to quit the congregation, exclaiming
“Good God!  I for a moment forgot I was in a Christian country.  The
dance of the Siberians, in the worship of the Lama, with their shouts and
gesticulations, is not more horrid!”  This observation so forcibly struck
me, that I could not avoid inserting it in my note-book.

With disgust we left the chapel, and were given to understand, by our
landlord, they celebrate a particular day every year, when instances have
been known of women dying by too great an exertion; and fainting is
frequently the consequence of their excessive jumping.

This sect is by no means confined to the town of Caernarvon; but in many
villages, and several market towns, both in North and South Wales, they
have established regular chapels.  “They have (says a correspondent to
the Gentleman’s Magazine) {197} periodical meetings in many of the larger
towns, to which they come from thirty to forty miles round.  At one held
at Denbigh, about last April, there were, I believe, upwards of four
thousand people, from different parts.  At another, held at Bala, soon
afterwards, nearly double that number were supposed to be present.”  The
last number appears rather to be exaggerated, though the letter, being
dated from Denbigh, should be considered as authoritative.

Another correspondent to the Gentleman’s Magazine gives the following
information respecting the sect: “That they are not a distinct sect, but
Methodists, of the same persuasion as the late Mr. Whitfield; for though
there are several congregations of the Wesleyan Methodists in this
country, there is no such custom amongst them.  But jumping during
religious worship is no new thing amongst the other party, having (by
what I can learn) been practised by them for many years past.  I have
seen some of their pamphlets in the Welsh language, in which this custom
is justified by the example of David, who danced before the ark; and of
the lame man, restored by our blessed Saviour, at the gate of the temple,
who leaped for joy.”  How far this gentleman’s account may be accurate, I
leave for others to decide: it is certainly to be lamented, in a country
where the Christian religion is preached in a style of the greatest
purity and simplicity, that these poor ignorant deluded wretches should
be led to a form of worship so dissonant to the established church of
England, by a poor ignorant fellow, devoid of education and common sense.

The same road we had so much admired the preceding Saturday, soon brought
us to



BANGOR,


the oldest Episcopal see in Wales; being founded in 516.

The situation is deeply secluded, “far from the bustle of a jarring
world,” and must have accorded well with monastic melancholy; for the
Monks, emerging from their retired cells, might here indulge in that
luxurious gloominess, which the prospect inspires, and which would soothe
the asperities inflicted upon them by the severe discipline of
superstition.  The situation of Bangor appears more like a scene of airy
enchantment than reality; and the residences of the Canons are endeared
to the votaries of landscape by the prospect they command.  On the
opposite shore, the town of Beaumaris was seen straggling up the deep
declivity, with its quay crowded with vessels, and all appeared bustle
and confusion; the contrast, which the nearer prospect inspired, was too
evident to escape our notice, where the

    “Oak, whose boughs were moss’d with age,
    And high top bald with dry antiquity,”

afforded a seat for the contemplation of the wide expanse of the ocean,
which is seen beyond the little island of Puffin, or Priestholm; so
called from the quantity of birds of that species, which resort here in
the summer months.

The cathedral has been built at different times, but no part very
ancient; the church was burnt down by Owen Glendwr, in the reign of King
Henry IV.; the choir was afterwards built by Bishop Henry Dene, (or
Deane), between the years 1496 and 1500; the tower and nave by Bishop
Skevington, in 1532.  The whole is Gothic architecture, and the interior
of the cathedral has, within the last six years, been altered, and now
presents a most imposing effect.  The choir, which formerly was only
fifty-two feet in length, has been extended into the nave, and is in
length 110 feet from the east window; the remaining part of the nave has
been neatly fitted up with free pews, for the Welsh congregation, and
will accommodate about 700 persons.  The choir will contain about 600
persons.  The late improvements were done by a public subscription, which
amounted to nearly 4000_l._ and the money has been expended in the most
beneficial and tasteful manner, under the superintendance of the Rev. J.
H. Cotton, Precentor and Senior Vicar, by whose praise-worthy exertions,
the money was collected in different parts of the United Kingdom.  There
are several bishops {200} buried in the choir.  I could dwell with
pleasure on the picturesque beauties of this little episcopal see; but a
repetition of the same epithets, grand, beautiful, sublime, fine, with a
long catalogue, which must necessarily occur, would appear tautologous on
paper, though their archetypes in nature would assume new colours at
every change of position of the beholder.

This bishopric owes the chief of its revenues and immunities to Anian,
bishop of the diocese, in the reign of Edward the First; who, being in
high favour with that monarch, and having had the honour of christening
the young prince, born at Caernarvon, afterwards Edward the Second, had,
as a compensation for the temporalities confiscated in the reign of King
Henry the Third, various manors, ferries, and grants from the revenues of
the principality allotted to the see.

Mr. Evans, in his valuable work, the Topography of North Wales, has
clearly refuted the improbable charge made against Bishop Bulkely, of
having sold the cathedral bells; and, on the contrary, proves from
documents, that the cathedral was indebted to him for considerable
repairs, and that likewise by his will he was a benefactor to it; this
falsehood, which originated with Godwin, in his Treatise, entitled “De
Presulibus,” as a piece of scandal against the church, met with but too
ready a belief from former tourists, whose false records Mr. Evans
deserves great credit for refuting.

Bangor is governed by the Bishop, whose steward holds the courts.  From
being a quiet, retired place, it has now become a scene of commercial
bustle and activity, and is rapidly rising into an important town.  The
opening of Lord Penrhyn’s slate quarries, and the great increase of
travelling through it since the union with Ireland, have been the great
causes of its increased and growing prosperity.  From the convenience for
sea-bathing, the excellent new roads which branch from it in every
direction, the beauties of scenery which surround it on every side, its
proximity to many of the finest objects which Wales can boast of, and the
great interest which is excited by the suspended bridge over the Menai
Strait, it has become a place of fashionable resort; and during the
summer exhibits a scene of gaiety and cheerfulness, that forms a striking
contrast to its ancient monastic gloom.  The tourist will find this a fit
spot for his head quarters, as he can branch out in various directions,
and each affords him ample scope for his sketch-book or his
contemplation.

Public baths are much wanted here; and it is to be hoped that the spirit
of improvement, which has lately manifested itself in this neighbourhood,
will not rest till these are accomplished.

The castle is said to have been built by Hugh, Earl of Chester, in the
reign of William the Second; it stood on a steep hill, on the south side
of Bangor, called Castle Bank, but there is not at this time a vestige
remaining.

A pleasant walk leads to the Bangor Ferry Inn, delightfully situated,
overlooking the Straits of



MENAI.


This Strait, which separates Anglesea from the main land, although
bearing only the appearance of a river, is an arm of the sea, and most
dangerous in its navigation at particular periods of the tide, and in
boisterous weather: during the flood, from the flush of water at each
extremity, it has a double current, the clash of which, termed Pwll
Ceris, it is highly rash and dangerous to encounter.  In the space of
fifteen miles there are six established ferries: the first of which, to
the south, is Abermenai, the next near Caernarvon, and three miles north
from the first is Tal y foel; four miles further, Moel y don; three miles
beyond which is the principal one, called Porthaethwy, but more generally
known as Bangor Ferry; it is the narrowest part of the Strait, and is
only about half a mile wide; this is the one over which the mails and
passengers pass on their route to and from Holyhead, and near which is
the bridge, of which a particular description and plan is for the first
time given; a mile further north is the fifth, Garth Ferry; and the
sixth, and widest ferry at high water, is between the village of Aber and
Beaumaris.

There appears but little doubt of Anglesea having been once connected
with the main land, as evident traces of an isthmus are discernible near
Porthaeth-hwy; where a dangerous line of rocks nearly cross the channel,
and cause such eddies at the first flowing of the tide, that the
contending currents of the Menai seem here to struggle for superiority.
This isthmus once destroyed, and a channel formed, it has been the work
of ages, by the force of spring tides and storms, gradually to deepen and
enlarge the opening; as it appears by history, that both Roman and
British cavalry, at low water, during neap tides, forded or swam over the
Strait, and covered the landing of the infantry from flat-bottomed boats.

The violent rush of water, and consequent inconvenience, delay, and
danger, when the wind and tide are unfavourable to the passage over
Bangor Ferry, in the present state of constant and rapid communication
with Ireland, gave rise to the idea of forming a bridge over the Menai.
Various estimates and plans were submitted to the public consideration by
our most celebrated engineers, and men of science; when, after numerous
delays, Mr. Telford’s design for one on the suspension principle was
adopted, and money granted by Parliament for carrying it into effect.
The first stone of this magnificent structure was laid on the 10th of
August, 1819, without any ceremony, by the resident engineer, Mr. Provis,
and the contractors for the masonry.

“When on entering the Straits,” {204} says a recent author, “the bridge
is first seen, suspended as it were in mid air, and confining the view of
the fertile and richly-wooded shores, it seems more like a light ornament
than a massy bridge, and shows little of the strength and solidity which
it really possesses.  But as we approached it nearer, whilst it still
retained its light and elegant appearance, the stupendous size and
immensity of the work struck us with awe; and when we saw that a brig,
with every stick standing, had just passed under it,—that a coach going
over appeared not larger than a child’s toy, and that foot-passengers
upon it looked like pigmies, the vastness of its proportions was by
contrast fully apparent.”  The whole surface of the bridge is in length
1000 feet, of which the part immediately dependent upon the chains is 590
feet, the remaining distance being supported by seven arches, four on one
side and three on the other, which fill up the distance from the main
piers to the shore.  These main piers rise above the level of the road 50
feet, and through them two archways, each 12 feet wide, admit a passage.
Over the top of these piers, four rows of chains, the extremities of
which are firmly secured in the rocks at each end of the bridge, are
thrown; two of them nearly in the centre, about four feet apart, and one
at each side.  The floor of the road is formed of logs of wood, well
covered with pitch, and then strewn over with granite broken very small,
forming, by its adhesion to the pitch, a solid body, impervious to the
wet.  A light lattice work of wrought iron to the height of about six
feet, prevents the possibility of accidents by falling over, and allows a
clear view of the scenery on both sides, which can be seen to great
advantage from this height.  Having expressed our admiration of the skill
evident in the construction, at once so simple and so useful, and having
satisfied our curiosity on the top, we descended by a precipitous path to
the level of the water, and gazed upwards with wonder, at the immense
flat surface above us, and its connecting gigantic arches.  The road is
100 feet above high water, and the arches spring at the height of 60 feet
from abutments of solid masonry, with a span of 52 feet.  These abutments
taper gradually from their base to where the arch commences, and immense
masses as they are, show no appearance of heaviness; indeed, taking the
whole of the Menai Bridge together, a more perfect union of beauty with
utility cannot be conceived.  It has been erected to bear a weight upon
the chains of 2000 tons; the whole weight at present imposed is only 500,
leaving an available strength of 1,500 tons; so that there is an easy
remedy for a complaint which has been made of its too great vibration in
a gale of wind, by laying additional weight upon it.  The granite, of
which the piers and arches are built, is a species of marble, admitting a
very high polish; of this the peasantry in the neighbourhood avail
themselves, and every one has some specimen of polished marble ready to
offer the tourist.  There is so much magnificence, beauty, and elegance,
in this grand work of art, that it harmonises and accords perfectly with
the natural scenery around, and though itself an object of admiration,
still, in connection, it heightens the effect of the general view.



MONA, OR ANGLESEA, {206}


which forms one of the six counties of North Wales, was to that
principality what the island of Sicily was to Italy, its granary, and
chief dependence for subsistence; it was likewise the favourite spot, and
the last asylum of the Druids in Britain; it was to their venerable and
sacred groves, in this their last sanctuary, that they fled from Roman
tyranny; and it was here, around their altars, defenceless and
undefended, save by firebrands snatched from beneath the sacrifice, that
these venerable bigots fell, on the score of their religion, under the
murderous swords of Pagans, who, their means of attaining knowledge being
considered, were more ignorant than themselves.  Neither have we a right,
on the bare testimony of these their bloody tyrannical persecutors, to
believe them to have been guilty of the horrid rites and human sacrifices
of which they are accused.  In what portion of history do we find the
state, the hero, or the conqueror, wanting a good and sufficient reason
to cover the plea for conquest or aggression; and, above all, do we ever
find the Romans, throughout their history, wanting in such plea to cover
the basest of their actions?  It was the religious stimulus by which the
Druids urged the Britons, even the females, to deeds of heroic madness,
to which the Romans owed the dear purchase in life and blood of their
British conquest; and which, whilst that stimulus existed, they were but
too well aware, must ever be insecure: no wonder then, that to cover the
inhumanity of a cold-blooded warfare of extermination against a
priesthood, that controlled and guided the energies of a daring people,
they should represent them in their bloody orgies as immolating human
victims: nay, most probably, even the accusation was founded in truth,
but grossly and wilfully misrepresented; for the ministers of religion
being, most probably, the administrators of justice, and sole keepers of
traditionary laws, the sacrifice of guilty culprits to such laws, to make
a deeper impression on the minds of hardy but superstitious barbarians,
was made a religious act.  When we reflect on the late horrible
sacrifices that have been made in this country in the nineteenth century,
to its offended laws, and on those disgusting, though less dreadful
exhibitions, which are made so frequently, in a leading street of the
metropolis of Britain, that they, from their business-like, unceremonious
mode of execution, no longer deter from similar offences: and when we see
the culprits come forth attended by ministers of religion, who may appear
to uninformed by-standers to superintend the ceremony, as to the lot of
one of them it falls to give the fatal signal; we should reflect how such
a spectacle may be misrepresented by an Indian, a Chinese, or an
Esquimaux, and then judge with due candour of the religious rites and
actions of the Druids.

Anglesea can no longer, with propriety, as it did of old, bear the title
of Ynys Dowyll, or the Shady Island; for those sacred groves, those
venerable oaks, which fell not under the harsh mandates of its Roman,
Saxon, or English invaders, have yielded to the hand of time, or the
avarice of man; and the late appearance of the island was unsheltered and
exposed, almost with the exception of the respected hallowed shades of
Plas-Newydd and Baron Hill; but numerous and thriving plantations are now
springing up, doing away with that sterile appearance; and the better and
more speedily to accomplish this desirable end, public nursery grounds
have been established in the centre of the island, to afford facilities
for, and to encourage, planting.  It has had the desired effect; and by
an improvement in smelting the ore, and extracting the sulphur from it,
vegetation is no longer injured, even where there is any soil on the
Parys Mountain.

It was formerly divided into seven districts, or comots, but at present
its divisions are only six.  It contains about two hundred thousand acres
of land; is in length, from north-west to south-east, about twenty miles;
in breadth, from north-east to south-west, about sixteen miles; and in
circumference about seventy-six miles: has seventy-four parishes, and
four market-towns, and is in the diocese of Bangor.  The number of houses
are estimated at 7183; the inhabitants at 37,045.  It sends two members
to parliament, one for the county and one for Beaumaris.

From its too great deficiency of wood, and live fences, the sterility of
the Parys Mountain and its vicinity, and the rocky appearance of the
soil, there was formerly no semblance of that exuberant fertility that
would allow this small partially cultivated island to export to the
extent it does, both in live stock and grain, viz. about 15,000 head of
black cattle, about 5000 hogs, great numbers of sheep, and nearly 4000
quarters of corn, besides numerous other articles of produce and
manufacture.  Its climate is more mild than that of Wales generally, but
it is at the same time subject to fogs and damp; the advantage and
disadvantage both attributable to the sea breezes.  It is well watered by
numerous rivulets, and has abundance of harbours: among the first is that
well known and highly useful one of Holyhead, which has of late been
greatly improved: that of Beaumaris is likewise good, and capable of
carrying on considerable trade.  Besides these, there are the minor ones
of Red Wharf Bay, Dulas Bay, Amlwch, from which the copper ore, &c.
obtained from Parys Mountain is shipped, and which might be greatly
improved, Cemlyn, Aberfraw, &c.: most, or all of them, might, at a small
expense, be rendered still more safe and useful.  Besides its exports in
corn and cattle, this small island carries on great trade in copper,
ochre, sulphur, mill-stones, lead, &c. &c.  It likewise produces various
specimens of marble (well known in London as Mona marbles,) and amongst
others the asbestos: it yields potter’s clay and fullers’ earth, as well
as coals, which are now worked in the neighbourhood of Llangefni.
Neither is the sea less bountiful than the land, affording a bill of fare
that would not disgrace the table of a London alderman.

On account of the great thoroughfare which this island has become since
the Union, from the exertions made by government to afford safety and
facility in the forwarding the principal Irish mails and despatches, the
roads are kept in excellent order.



BEAUMARIS,


the largest and best built town in Anglesea, is pleasantly situated on
the western shore of the bay of that name, and commands a fine view of
the sea and the Caernarvonshire mountains.  Its original name was Porth
Wygyr.  Its harbour is well sheltered, and affords ample protection for
coasters and ships of considerable burthen, which, during northerly
winds, are driven there in great numbers, to avoid the dangers of a lee
shore.  As no manufactures of consequence are carried on in its
neighbourhood, it is rather calculated for great retirement than for
active bustle; but being the county town it is now and then enlivened by
the gaieties attendant upon assizes, elections, and other public
meetings.

The castle, built by Edward I. in 1295, stands in the estate of Richard
Bulkeley Williams Bulkeley, Esq. close to the town, and covers a
considerable space of ground; but from its low situation it was always
inferior in point of strength to the castles of Conway and Caernarvon.

Close above the town is Baron Hill, the seat of R. B. Williams Bulkeley,
Esq. delightfully situated on the declivity of a richly wooded bank, and
possessing a complete command of every object which can add to the charms
of picturesque scenery.  The park extends to, and nearly surrounds, the
west and north sides of the town; whilst the rising ground, upon which
the mansion stands, shelters the town from the rude blasts that would
otherwise assail it; thus giving it that protection from the raging
elements which the last noble owner ever afforded to its inhabitants,
when sorrow and adversities assailed their domestic peace.  To enumerate
all the acts of Lord Bulkeley’s munificence and kindness would be
impossible, but a few of them may be seen in the neighbourhood of
Beaumaris.

The beautiful road of four miles and a half, along the shore of the Menai
to the suspension bridge, was made at the expense of Lord and Lady
Bulkeley, in 1804: it cost about 3000_l._ and, when completed, was
presented to the public, and kept in repair by the owner of Baron Hill
until 1827, when an act of parliament was obtained, making it a public
road, and commissioners appointed, who have erected a turnpike-gate
thereon, and under whose inspection and influence it has been
considerably improved in width, and the precipices reduced.  A road
possessed of greater picturesque beauty is not to be found in Britain.

The church was kept in repair by the late Lord Bulkeley, to which he
presented a new organ, a set of elegant communion plate, a clock, and a
peal of six fine toned bells; together costing about 1200_l._  He also
gave a good house to the rector for the time being.  The national school,
as well as the master’s house, was built by public subscription, on land
given by the late Lord Bulkeley, and the master’s and mistress’s salaries
were paid by him and his lady.

Many more acts of their liberality might be enumerated, but these are
sufficient to prove them zealous protecting friends and kind neighbours.
Their numerous deeds of private charity ought not to be blazoned to the
world, but they will live long in the grateful remembrance of those
around them.

Beaumaris, situated 249 miles from London, had, in 1811, 249 houses, and
1,810 inhabitants; and in 1821 a population of 2,205.  It is governed by
a mayor, recorder, two bailiffs, twenty-four capital burgesses, and
several inferior officers.  It formerly possessed an extensive trade; but
has declined since the rise of Liverpool.

From Beaumaris we proceeded, by Dulas and Red Wharf Bay, to Amlwch; the
distance is about sixteen miles, through a pleasant country, in parts
greatly resembling England.  About a mile from Red Wharf Bay you pass the
village of Pentraeth, _The End of the Sands_.  The situation is pleasant;
and Mr. Grose was so taken with the picturesque beauty of its small
church, as to give a view of it in his Antiquities.

Near this, in a field at Plâs Gwynne, the seat of the Panton family, are
two stones, placed, as tradition says, to mark the bounds of an
astonishing leap, which obtained for the active performer of it the wife
of his choice; but it appears, that as he leaped into her affections with
difficulty, he ran away from them with ease; for going to a distant part
of the country, where he had occasion to reside several years, he found,
on his return, that his wife had, on that very morning, been married to
another person.  Eenion, on hearing this, took his harp, and, sitting
down at the door, explained in Welsh metre who he was, and where he had
been resident.  His wife narrowly scrutinized his person, unwilling to
give up her new spouse, when he exclaimed:

    Look not, Angharad, on my silver hair,
       Which once shone bright of golden lively hue:
    Man does not last like gold:—he that was fair
       Will soon decay, though gold continue new.

    If I have lost Angharad, lovely fair!
       The gift of brave Ednyfed, and my spouse,
    All I’ve not lost, (all must from hence repair),
       Nor bed, nor harp, nor yet my ancient house.

    I once have leap’d to show my active power,
       A leap which none could equal or exceed,
    The leap in Aber Nowydd, which thou, fair flower!
       Didst once so much admire, thyself the meed.

    Full fifty feet, as still the truth is known,
       And many witnesses can still attest;
    How there the prize I won, thyself must own:
       This action stamp’d my worth within thy breast.

                                                    BINGLEY’S NORTH WALES.

At Llanfair, which is about a mile distant from this road, was born the
celebrated scholar and poet, Goronwy Owen, who, notwithstanding his
acknowledged and admired abilities, was, after a series of hardships and
struggles, obliged to expatriate himself to the wilds of Virginia, where
he was appointed pastor of the church.  He was well versed in the Latin,
Greek, and oriental languages, was a skilful antiquary and an excellent
poet.  His Latin odes are greatly admired; but his Welsh poems rank him
among the most distinguished bards of his country.

About five miles west of Beaumaris is Peny-mynydd, the birth-place of
Owen Tudor, a private gentleman, who, having married Catherine of France,
the Dowager of our Henry V. in 1428, became the ancestor of a line of
monarchs.  They had three sons and one daughter.  The daughter died in
her infancy: Edmund was created Earl of Richmond, and marrying a daughter
of the Duke of Somerset, had Henry, afterwards Henry VII.  Jasper was
created Earl of Pembroke; and Owen became a monk.  By means of his
marriage, therefore, Owen Tudor not only became father to a line of
kings, but in his son, as Gray says, Wales came to be governed again by
their own princes.

The Tudor family became extinct in Richmond Tudor, who died in 1657, and
the estate belongs to R. B. Williams Bulkeley, Esq.  In the church is one
of their monuments, removed from Lanvaes Abbey at its dissolution.



LLANELIAN


is about two miles east of Amlwch, near the coast: Mr. Bingley’s account
of which, and the superstitious ceremonies still attaching to it, is both
curious and entertaining:

    “The church is by no means an inelegant structure; and adjoining to
    it is a small chapel of very ancient foundation, that measures in its
    interior twelve feet by fifteen, called Myfyr, _the confessional_.  A
    curious closet of wood, of an hexagonal form, called _St. Elian’s
    closet_, is yet left in the east wall; and is supposed to have served
    both the office of communion table, and as a chest to contain the
    vestments and other utensils belonging to the chapel.  There is a
    hole in the wall of the chapel, through which the priests are
    supposed to have received confessions: the people believe this hole
    to have been used in returning oracular answers to persons who made
    inquiries of the saint respecting future events.  Near the door is
    placed Cyff Elian, _Elian’s chest_, or poor-box.  People out of
    health, even to this day, send their offering to the saint, which
    they put through a hole into the box.  A silver groat, though not a
    very common coin, is said to be a present peculiarly acceptable, and
    has been known to procure his intercession, when all other kinds of
    coin have failed!  The sum thus deposited, which in the course of a
    year frequently amounts to several pounds, the churchwardens annually
    divide among the poor of the parish.

    “The wakes of Llanelian were formerly held on the three first Friday
    evenings in August; but they are now confined to only one of those
    days.  Young persons from all parts of the adjacent country, and even
    from distant counties, assemble here; most of whom have along with
    them some offering for the saint, to ensure their future prosperity,
    palliate their offences, and secure blessings on their families,
    their cattle, and corn.

    “The misguided devotees assemble about the chapel, and having
    deposited their offerings, many of them proceed to search into their
    future destiny in a very singular manner, by means of the wooden
    closet.  Persons of both sexes, of all ages and sizes, enter the
    small door-way, and if they can succeed in turning themselves round
    within the narrow limits of the place, (which measures only betwixt
    three and four feet in height, about four feet across the back, and
    eighteen inches in width,) they believe that they shall be fortunate
    till at least the ensuing wake; but if they do not succeed in this
    difficult undertaking, they esteem it an omen of ill fortune, or of
    their death within the year.  I have been told, that it is curious
    enough to see a stout lusty fellow, weighing perhaps sixteen or
    eighteen stone, striving to creep into these narrow confines, with as
    much confidence of success as a stripling a yard high; and when he
    fails in the attempt, to see him fuming and fretting, because his
    body, which contains in solid bulk more than the place could hold,
    were it crammed into all corners, cannot be got in.  But when we
    consider that superstition and enthusiasm have generally little to do
    with reason, we must not wonder at this addition to the heap of
    incongruities that all ages have afforded us.

    “Llanelian was formerly a sanctuary, or place of refuge for
    criminals.  In digging a grave in the churchyard, about sixteen years
    ago, a deep trench was discovered, which extended about twenty yards
    in a transverse direction across.  It was found to contain a great
    quantity of human bones; and is supposed to have been the place of
    interment of a number of sailors, who perished in a storm that drove
    them upon this coast.”



AMLWCH,


or _the Winding Loch_, is a dirty-looking straggling town, founded on
rocks.  It owes its support chiefly to the copper works in its vicinity.
The church is a neat modern structure, dedicated to Elaeth, a British
saint: the port, which is but small, is notwithstanding excellently
adapted for the trade which is carried on; it is narrow, capable of only
containing two vessels abreast, of about 200 tons burthen each, and of
these it will furnish room for about thirty; the entrance is by a chasm
between two rocks.

The Parys Mountain, like the works at Merthyr, shews what the industry of
man is capable of accomplishing in removing rocks, mountains, and
dragging forth the bowels of the earth.  To those who possess good
nerves, the view of this scene of wealth and industry will afford
gratification unalloyed; but to those not so blessed, the horrific
situations in which the principal actors of the scene are placed, poised
in air, exposed to the blasting of the rocks, and the falling of
materials, which themselves are sending aloft, or from those which may be
misdirected, as ascending from the workings of others, by striking
against projecting crags, seem to threaten death in so many varied
shapes, that the wonder and admiration excited by the place are lost in
pity and anxiety for the hardy miners.

From the top of the mountain the dreadful yawning chasm, with the
numerous stages erected over the edge of the precipice, appal rather than
gratify the observer.  To see the mine to advantage, you must descend to
the bottom, and be provided with a guide, to enable you to shun the
danger, that would be considerable, from the blasts and falling
materials; the workmen generally not being able to see those that their
operations may endanger.

The Mona mine is the entire property of the Marquis of Anglesea.  The
Parys mine is shared.

The mountain has been worked with varied success for about sixty-five
years: it is now believed to be under the average; but whether that
arises from the low price of the article, or the mine being exhausted, I
am unable to say: for a considerable period it produced 20,000 tons
annually.  One bed of ore was upwards of sixty feet in thickness.  In the
blasting the rock, to procure the ore, from six to eight tons of
gunpowder are yearly consumed.

“This celebrated mountain,” says Mr. Evans, “is easily distinguished from
the rest; for it is perfectly barren from the summit to the plain below:
not a single shrub, and hardly a blade of grass, being able to live in
its sulphurous atmosphere.

    “No grassy mantle hides the sable hills,
    No flowery chaplet crowns the trickling rills;
    Nor tufted moss, nor leathery lichen creeps
    In russet tapestry, o’er the crumbling steeps.”

                                                                   DARWIN.

                        [Picture: Map of North Wales]

From hence we proceeded to



HOLYHEAD,


called in Welsh _Caergybi_, situated on an island at the western
extremity of Anglesea.  It has lately changed its aspect from a poor
fishing village to a decent looking town, in consequence of its being the
chief resort for passengers to and from Dublin.  The distance across the
channel is about fifty-five miles; and there are four steam packets which
daily cross the channel, with the mail and government despatches.

Each vessel has two cabins, beautifully fitted up, light and airy; and
every thing appears to have been attended to, that can either add to the
comfort or safety of the passengers: expense has not been spared for that
which was useful, and conducive to safety; and the equipment having been
superintended by the late Captain Rogers, an experienced officer, on the
Holyhead station, nothing has been misapplied.  The passage is effected
in from five and a half to seven hours, a distance of fifty-five miles;
and the letters are delivered in Dublin from London in the short space of
forty hours.

In short, the attention which government has evinced to facilitate the
communication between the two kingdoms merits every praise.  Neither
exertion nor expense have been spared in improving the roads from
Shrewsbury to Holyhead, which improvements have been executed under the
direction of Mr. Telford, who is now commencing on that from Chester to
the above place; and now the suspension bridge over Conway Ferry (for
which parliament voted 40,000_l._) is completed, in addition to that over
the Menai at Bangor Ferry, but few persons will run the risk of a
dilatory and dangerous passage by Liverpool, when they may have a certain
and a safe one by Holyhead, with excellent roads and accommodation; and
without the trouble of the ferries, which were formerly an inconvenience
to persons taking this route.

Near the centre of the town, on a rock close above the sea, is a church,
on the site where _St. Cybi_, in A.D. 380, founded a small monastery,
which, in 580, was converted into a college by _Maelgwyn Gwynedd_, or,
according to some, by _Hwfa ap Cynddelw_, Lord of Llifon, one of the
fifteen tribes of North Wales.  James I. granted this college to Francis
Morris and Francis Phillips, which afterwards became the property of Rice
Gwyn, Esq. who bestowed the great tithes on Jesus College, Oxford, for
the maintenance of two fellows and two scholars: from that time the
parish has been served by a curate nominated by the college.  This church
is a handsome embattled edifice, built in the form of a cross, with this
inscription, on a pediment of the north transept: “_Sancte Kyb. ora pro
nobis_.”  The walls of the churchyard are seventeen feet high, six feet
thick, and form a quadrangle; three sides of which are evidently Roman,
although ascribed to _Caswellon Llawhir_, a chieftain of Anglesea, in the
fifth century: the east side is a modern low wall on the verge of the
cliffs.

A fine extensive pier is now completed, on an island called _Ynys-halen_,
which forms the north side of the harbour; at the extremity of which is a
fine light-house, exhibiting a brilliant light by oil gas.  This grand
national undertaking has already afforded an asylum to the trade of the
Channel: no less than sixty or eighty vessels have entered the harbour in
one day, and many more have sailed out in one tide.  Before the erection
of the pier, which commenced in 1809, many valuable vessels, seeking for
shelter in stormy weather, were lost with their crews on the southern
shores of the harbour.  From this port are sent upwards of 40,000 bushels
of excellent grain every year.  It contains 4071 inhabitants.

Under the mountain which overhangs the town, called the Head, is a large
cavern, supported by natural huge pillars, named the Parliament House:
this, as well as several others, perforate deep into the mountain, and is
inaccessible without a boat.  The South Slack light-house, on an islet,
within about twenty yards of the bold cliffs of the mountain, exhibits a
revolving light of the greatest utility.  The islet is connected with the
mountain by means of a suspension bridge, which is worthy the attention
of the curious.  Among these rocks vast numbers of the peregrine falcon
take, up their abode, together with pigeons, gulls, puffins, razor-bills,
and other sea-birds.

In returning from Holyhead, instead of taking the old circuitous line of
road by Gwyndee and Llangefni, we took the new road, formed by Mr.
Telford under the direction of the parliamentary commissioners, and which
cost government, exclusive of bridges and embankments, at the rate of
2000_l._ per mile.  The steepest part of the present line does not exceed
one in thirty, and is considered the finest specimen of road-making in
the kingdom, and at the same time reduces the distance from Holyhead to
Bangor full three miles.

Having again reached Bangor, we determined still farther to explore the
beauties of this delightful spot and its vicinity.  Having taken a hasty
refreshment, we bent our steps towards Aber cegin, near the mouth of a
small rivulet that empties itself into Port Penrhyn, and from thence
proceeded to



PENRHYN CASTLE,


the mansion of George Hay Dawkins Pennant, Esq. which is delightfully
situated on a wooded eminence, between the estuaries of the Cegin and the
Ogwen, about two miles east of the city of Bangor.  It commands a fine
view of the bay and town of Beaumaris to the north; the great Ormes Head,
and Penmaen-mawr terminate the prospect on the east; and towards the
south, the scene is closed by a bold and romantic range of mountains.

A short distance west of the Castle is Port Penrhyn, where the slates are
brought down from Mr. Pennant’s quarry, and shipped in immense quantities
to various parts of the world.  It is easy of access, perfectly
sheltered, and capable of accommodating trading vessels of upwards of 300
tons burthen.

It is but justice to the successor of the late Lord Penrhyn to say, that
along with the estate, he appears to inherit the same spirit for
improvement.  The recent extension of the quay at Port Penrhyn, is one of
the many instances which might be recited; by it, accommodation has been
given to about fifty sail of traders, in addition to the former
shipping-place, making the total length of the quay upwards of three
hundred yards.  A neat stone bridge over the river Cegin, which runs in
at the head of the port, forms a complete connexion between the quay, the
limeworks, the sea-shore, and the city.

Penrhyn Castle possesses a great curiosity; and Mr. Evans’s account of
it, in his Topography, being both judicious and entertaining, I subjoin
it.  It is the Hirlas or drinking-horn of Piers Gryffydd, which is
perhaps the only elegant specimen of that kind of utensil elucidatory of
ancient manners.

“It is a large bugle horn of an ox, ornamented with enchased silver, and
suspended by a chain of the same metal, having the initials of his own
name and family engraved at the end.  In the royal court of Cambria,
there were legally _three_ sorts of horns, for the purpose of private or
public libations.  The first was y corn ydd yfo y brenin, or the one
solely appropriated to the king’s use; second, corn cyweithas, by which
the domestics of the palace were summoned to duty.  And, third, corn y
pencynydd, committed to the custody of the chief huntsman.  Each of these
was to be of the reputed value of one pound.  On grand occurrences, the
domestics of the palace were permitted to drink out of the sovereign’s
horn, and the chamberlain, or high steward, on such occasions, furnished
handsome potations of the generous metheglin.  The contents of the horn,
at these times, assumed the name of the sacred potion, similar to the
_wassail bowl_, or the apostle’s cup, in use among the Saxons.  Ulphus,
when he conveyed certain lands to the church of York, is said to have
quaffed off the sparkling contents of such a vessel, drinking a health,
“_Deo et Sancto Petro_,” to God and St. Peter.  On festive days, the
imperious custom was to empty the horn at one tip, and instantly blow it,
as a testimony that no dereliction of draught had occurred.

       “Fill the horn with foaming liquor,
       Fill it up, my boy, be quicker;
       Hence away despair and sorrow,
       Time enough to sigh to-morrow.
       Let the brimming goblet smile,
       And Ednyfed’s cares beguile.
       Gallant youth, unus’d to fear,
       Master of the broken spear;
       And the arrow-pierced shield,
       Brought with honour from the field.
       Like a hurricane is he
       Bursting on the troubled sea.
       See their spears distain’d with gore,
       Hear the din of battle roar,
       Bucklers, swords, together clashing,
       Sparkles from their helmets flashing,
       Hear ye not their loud alarms?
       Hark! they shout—to arms! to arms!
       Thus were Garthen’s plains defended,
       Melor fight, began and ended:
       There two princes fought: and there
    Was Mowrach Vowran’s feast exchang’d for rout and fear.” {224}

The rail-road and inclined planes formed by the late Lord Penrhyn, to
reduce the labour and risk of bringing down the slates to the port, with
numerous other improvements, are estimated to have cost his lordship one
hundred and seventy thousand pounds.

The much-admired church of Llandegai is a neat Gothic edifice, which has
recently been greatly improved and beautified; the late Lady Penrhyn
having left a noble bequest for that purpose.  “The whole interior has
been renewed, viz. the seats, pulpit, communion, ceiling, plaistering,
and floor, and the tower raised, in order to admit a peal of six bells: a
legacy for which has been also left by Lady Penrhyn, as well as one for
the erection of a monument to her deceased lord, which is now fixed up in
the church, and is a most superb and elegant piece of work.”—_Williams_.

It is made of statuary marble, and represents two large figures; the one
is a female peasant girl weeping over the loss of her deceased lord and
lady; the other a quarryman, with an iron bar and slate knife in his
hand, earnestly regarding the inscription, which commemorates his
benefactors.  Besides these, the following four smaller figures strongly
depict the wonderful changes effected on the face of the country, and on
the morals, habits, and comforts of its inhabitants, by the noble and
spirited exertions of the late Lord Penrhyn.

The first is a boy, with two reeds in his mouth, feeding his goats on the
mountains, being an emblem of this country, on its appearance to Lord
Penrhyn when it was in a very rough state.  2nd, Two boys working in the
slate quarry; being an emblem of industry.  3rd, One boy teaching
another; being an emblem of religion.  4th, Three boys standing in a
wheat field, bearing their sickles; being an emblem or representation of
plenty.  Here likewise are interred the remains of the celebrated
Archbishop Williams; who is represented in his robes, in a kneeling
position, on a mural monument.

Mr. Pennant’s slate quarry is about six miles from Bangor, on the road to
Capel-Curig, and Cerniogi-Mawr.  St. Ann’s Chapel, near the quarries, was
erected and liberally endowed by the late Lord Penrhyn; and Lady Penrhyn
left a sum of money for an organ, and a suitable stipend for the
organist.

The traveller is greatly indebted to the present Mr. Pennant, as well as
to the late Lord Penrhyn, for the very great and comfortable
accommodation he now derives from their exertions on this line of road.
The inn at Capel-Curig is now large and convenient; in addition to which,
and to save time, Mr. Pennant has caused to be erected a cottage and
stables, to enable parties in haste, as well as the mail and coaches, to
change horses without going down to the inn.

Near the slate quarry is the pretty cottage of the late Lady Penrhyn,
called Ogwen Bank.  It is a perfect paradise, arising out of chaos; the
style is the florid Gothic, and shews great taste in the designer.  The
centre contains an elegant room, the front of it forming the segment of a
circle; the wings contain coach-houses and stabling.  Over the river
Ogwen, in a rough and picturesque part of it, is a bridge corresponding
with the house.  All visitors to the house are requested to sign their
names in a book kept for that purpose.  This beautiful cottage is hid
from the road by the trees and plantations.

Having satisfied ourselves with the view of this charming retreat, we
proceeded to a comfortable inn, called Tynymaes, (now a post-house, with
good stables,) and partook of some refreshment, prior to a more full
investigation of the horrors and beauties of the vale of Beavers, or Nant
Ffrancon; for in this once solitary and dreadful glen, those useful and
astonishingly ingenious animals were once found, whose skins were then
valued at 120 pence.  The awful grandeur of the surrounding barren rugged
rocks are finely contrasted by the rich verdant bottom of the glen, and
the thick foliage and luxuriant plantations of Ogwen Bank.  Descending
from the road into a hollow, we had a fine view of the cataracts of
Benlog; down which the waters of five lakes rush into the pool beneath;
the lower fall of the three, which is the largest, is seen to the
greatest advantage by climbing a rugged rock.  “Here,” says Mr. Bingley,
“the stream roared with vast fury, and in one sheet of foam, down an
unbroken and almost perpendicular rock.  The sun shone directly upon it,
and a prismatic bow was beautifully formed by the spray.  The tremendous
roar of the water, and the broken and uncouth disposition of the
immediately surrounding rocks, added greatly to the interest of the
scene.  After a while I climbed a rocky steep to the second or middle
fall.  Here the river is precipitated, in a fine stream, through a chasm
between two perpendicular rocks that each rise several yards above.  From
the station I took, the immense mountain Trivain was seen to fill up the
wide space at the top; heightened greatly in effect by a dark aërial tint
arising from the extreme heat of the day, and the lowering clouds that
were floating around.  The masses of black rocks, surrounded by foam,
near the top of the fall, I could have fancied were floating along the
torrent, and rushing to the bottom.  The stream widens as it descends,
and below passes over a slanting rock, which gives it somewhat of a
different direction.  In the foreground was the rugged bed of the stream,
and the water was seen to dash in various directions among the broken
masses of rock.  The third cataract, to which I now clambered, I found
very grand and majestic, yet by no means equal to either of the former.
These waterfalls are scarcely known in the adjacent country, and have
been unaccountably omitted even in Mr. Pennant’s Tour, although this
gentleman accurately describes most of the scenery around them.

“Leaving the falls, the trouble of visiting which had been amply repaid
by the pleasure I had derived from them, I regained the road.  On
crossing the upper end of the vale, I was delighted with a very beautiful
and unexpected view for nearly its whole length; where the mountains down
each side appeared, to a great distance, falling off in beautiful
perspective.”

Mr. Bingley experienced not more pleasure than we did in the view of
these cataracts; but he was fortunate in having more leisure to add to
it, by viewing Y Trivaen, or the Three Summits, which bounds the right
extremity of the hollow, and Llyn Ogwen, from which the river of that
name takes its rise: Mr. Hutton’s description of it made us greatly
regret the pleasure we were obliged to decline; but having upwards of
five miles to return to Bangor, although our road was all down hill, we
found it necessary so to do, from the previous fatigues of the day:
rocks, Welsh roads, and the viewing of slate quarries, prove the stamina
of a tourist.  Mr. Hutton approached Llyn Ogwen from Capel-Curig, where
there is now an excellent inn, much frequented during the summer months
by parties of pleasure.  His description is as follows:

“A stranger to the country, to the language, and almost to man, I
returned to Nant Gwynant, slept at Capel-Curig, and was wandering over
Lord Penrhyn’s new road towards Caernarvon.  The cascades on my left were
rolling down with violence, after heavy rain, when a sheet of water, one
mile long and three quarters wide, presented itself to view; which by the
map I knew must be Ogwen Pool.  But what was my surprise, when, at the
extremity of the pool, I instantly found myself upon a precipice two
hundred feet high, and, in a moment, a most beautiful valley burst upon
me of nearly one mile wide and four long; the river rushing down this
precipice in several stages, and winding full in view through this
delightful valley.  The rocks appeared tremendous, the mountains sloping,
and the verdure increasing with the descent to the bottom, where, if
poetically inclined, I might say, ‘Nature sat in majesty, adorned in her
best robe of green velvet.’  When I had travelled about three miles along
this sequestered valley, I saw four people endeavouring to repair a gate.
I addressed one who appeared likely to understand English.  He readily
answered several questions respecting the road, and other objects.  ‘My
way, I am informed, Sir, lies through Nant Ffrancon; pray how shall I
know when I am in it?’  ‘You are in it now.’  Over part of this vale
impends Yr ala wen, its front torn into amazing gullies.”

The new mail-road between Bangor and Cernioga Mawr, through Capel-Curig,
saves upwards of nine miles; by this road, through Shrewsbury, the
distance to London is two hundred and thirty-six miles three furlongs:
the old mail-road, through Chester, is two hundred and fifty-one miles
one furlong; and the former road, through Shrewsbury, Llanrwst, Conway,
and over Penmaen-mawr, is two hundred and forty-five miles, or by
Bridgenorth, two hundred and fifty-two miles.

Along this road lies some exquisite scenery: and the following passage
from the Beauties, Harmonies, and Sublimities of Nature, will agreeably
illustrate the feelings with which it impregnated the author.

“As Helvidius was making an excursion among the mountains, stretching to
the east of Moelshiabod, he arrived at the bridge, across a small
rivulet; and sitting down upon the grass, fell asleep under the shade of
a large holly tree.  He awoke just as the sun was sinking in the horizon;
a slight shower succeeded; all nature became renovated; and the perfumes,
which embalmed the air, seemed even capable of wafting him to the Elysian
Fields.  The tree, beneath which he reposed, stood in a valley, matchless
even in the Island of Madagascar; and the cones of several mountains gave
an air of grandeur to the perspective, which nature has forbidden in most
other regions.  He was lost, as it were, in the enthusiasm of his
admiration!  At that moment Lord — passed in his coach, apparently
insensible to the scenes through which he was conveyed.  Oh! how an
indiscriminate mingling with men blunts the best feelings of the human
heart!  ‘Had his Lordship,’ thought Helvidius, ‘seen these lovely
pictures, even a thousand and a thousand times before, he might have
derived enjoyment from witnessing them again; since it is the autumnal
season of the year; and the woods, and shrubs growing out of the rocks,
are variegated in a manner that even Salvator Rosa would have loved to
look upon them!’

“Though Helvidius was mortified at this insensibility on the part of the
statesman, and felt so ready to condemn his taste and want of
sensibility, he was weak enough to feel more at war with himself than
with him; and began seriously to question which were the wiser of the
two; the man who loves, or he who neglects, the varied objects of the
material world.  ‘He is a Peer,’ exclaimed he to himself, ‘a man of
education,—a statesman,—one who is looked up to in the world, as being,
in a manner, pre-eminent over his species:—he seems to have little relish
for all these objects, which I have been looking upon with such
enthusiasm.  It must be folly and weakness in me, therefore, to indulge
this humour; a humour, which, from what I have seen of mankind, I am
sensible that most men, who look not up through every object they see, to
the Architect that makes it, would esteem frivolous and idle, if not
criminal.  There are no silver mines here: nor does this rivulet leave
any gold-dust upon its shores!’  He sat down mortified.  To dissipate his
chagrin, he took a volume of Epictetus out of his pocket, and opening the
book, his eye alighted upon the following passage.  ‘As when you see an
asp in a golden casket, you do not esteem that asp happy, because it is
inclosed in materials so costly and so magnificent, but despise and would
shun it, on account of its venom: so, when you see vice lodged in the
midst of wealth and the swelling pride of fortune, be not struck with the
splendour of the materials, with which it is surrounded, but despise the
gross alloy of its manners and sentiments.’  Upon reading this passage,
Helvidius became instantly ashamed of his folly, and reconciled to his
enthusiasm.  ‘Though this is a man,’ said he to himself, ‘who, like the
King of Sweden’s enchanted cup, can almost make the wind turn to any part
of the compass, which pleases his humour most: though he is perpetually
surrounded by persons, who, if he were to take his shoe from off his
foot, hurl it into the air, and proclaim it a god, would worship it as it
fell; and though he is a rising sun, whom half the world would worship;
yet would I rather be able to trace the Power which formed this
holly-tree, up to as far as my imagination is capable of soaring, than be
the man for him to shake by the hand; to admit to his banquets; to revel
with his minions; to hang, as it were, upon his lips; and to be raised to
ecstasy by his smiles!

    “Climb at court for me that will
    Tottering favour’s pinnacle;
    All I wish is to be still.
       Settled in some secret nest,
       In calm quiet let me rest:
       And far from off the public stage,
       Pass away my quiet age.”

On leaving Bangor we proceeded to the pretty little village of Aber,
which gives its name to the last of the ferries over the Menai.  The walk
from the village across the Lavan Sands to the ferry is about four miles.
This walk it would be hazardous for a stranger to undertake without a
guide, as the sands frequently shift.  During foggy weather, the large
bell of Aber, given for this purpose by Lord Bulkeley, is constantly
rung, as a guide to direct those coming from the island.

Near the bridge is a circular mount, seemingly artificial, which was the
foundation of a small castle, probably constructed of timber, as many of
the Welsh fortresses were; the vestiges of the moat and its feeder from
the river still remain.

“Traces of buildings have been discovered near the spot, which were
probably the remains of the prince’s palace, as the inhabitants still
pretend to show strangers the foundation of the old kitchen.  Several
memorials, &c. appear in our Welsh histories, dated Aber Garth Celyn,
which is the ancient name by which this place was
distinguished.”—_Williams_.

At the siege of Montgomery, in the reign of Henry the Third, Llewelyn ap
Iorwerth took prisoner a potent baron, named William de Breos, whom he
conducted to this castle.  William, who was both accomplished and
handsome, gained not only the friendship of his conqueror, but likewise
the affections of his wife, {233} with whom he ventured to carry on an
intrigue.  This not having been discovered by Llewelyn till after the
baron had been ransomed, he condescended to resort to a breach of
hospitality, for the purpose of getting him again into his power.

De Breos having accepted an invitation from Llewelyn to visit him, the
latter no sooner got possession of his person, than he caused him to be
hung on the side of the opposite hill.  The next morning the bard of the
palace (the princess being ignorant of his fate) accosted her in the
following rhyme:

    “Diccyn, doccyn, gwraig Llywelyn,
    Beth a roit ti am weled Gwilym?”

    “Tell me, wife of Llywelyn, what you would give for a sight of your
    William?”

To which the princess answered:

    “Cymru, Lloegr a Llywelyn
    Y rown I gyd am weled Gwilym!”

    “Wales and England and Llywelyn,
    I’d give them all to see my William!”

The bard, thus aggravating Llewelyn’s cruelty, shewed him to her hanging
on a tree, on the side of the hill, at a place called Wern Grogedig.
Upon a mountain, about a mile south of Llewelyn’s Castle, in a field
called Cae Gwlyn du, is a cave where William de Breos was interred, still
called Tyddyn Gwilym.

Aber is much resorted to during the summer season, the sands at high
water affording excellent bathing: the inn likewise affords good
accommodation.  It chiefly belongs to Lord Bulkeley, and exhibits
numerous proofs of his lordship’s benevolence: amongst the rest a new
steeple to the church, with a ring of bells.

From hence, after passing Gosddinog (Mrs. Crawley’s) we soon reached the
dark lowering promontory of Pen-mawn-mawr, about eight miles from Bangor,
rising perpendicularly, in a massy wall, to the height of one thousand
four hundred feet: huge fragments of shattered rock are scattered by the
side of the road; and a wall, scarcely five feet high, alone protects a
carriage from the steep precipice; which, from the slightness of the
foundation, has even fallen down in many parts.  In this awfully sublime
situation we remained for some time, astonished at the bold protuberance
of the rocks, which seemed to project their dark sides to augment the
idle roar of the waves.

The difference between looking up and looking down a precipice is well
marked by Mr. Jefferson, in the account he furnished the Marquis de
Chastellux, of the Virginian bridge of rocks.  “Though the sides of the
bridge,” says he, “are provided, in some parts, with a parapet of fixed
rocks, yet few men have resolution to walk to them, and look over into
the abyss.  You voluntarily fall on your hands and feet, creep to the
parapet, and look over it.  Looking from the height about a minute gave
me a violent head-ache.  If the view from the top be painful and
intolerable, that from below is delightful in the extreme.  It is
impossible for the emotions, arising from the sublime, to be felt beyond
what they are on the sight of so beautiful an arch; so elevated and so
light, springing up, as it were, to heaven.  The rapture of the spectator
is indescribable.”

In keeping the direct line of road the traveller leaves behind him many
antiquities worthy of attention; Mr. Williams’s account of which, from
his being a resident near the spot, appearing to be the best, as well as
containing a most full and interesting description of the ancient Welsh
or British games, I shall transcribe: at the same time strongly
recommending the work to such as wish to take a minute survey of this
county.—His route is reversed, “but as most strangers will, no doubt,
proceed from Conway to Bangor, it shall be my endeavour to act as their
guide, and mention some particulars which are worth their attention along
this road.  For the first two miles he will proceed up hill, until he
comes to an opening between two rocks, near a place called Sychnant, when
all of a sudden a most magnificent scene presents itself.  From hence he
commands a full view of Beaumaris Bay, generally covered with a number of
small vessels; the Puffin, or Priestholm island, the village of Llangoed,
the town of Beaumaris, Baron-hill, and the Friars; the former, the
beautiful seat of the Lord Viscount Bulkeley, and the latter, that of his
brother, Sir Robert Williams, Bart. M.P. all on the Anglesea shore.  On
the Caernarvonshire side, Bangor and Penrhyn Castle; and last, though not
least, the huge Penmaen-mawr, protruding its rocky front into the sea,
forming a natural barrier in such manner (to all appearance) as to cut
off every communication this way, and render any farther progress
impracticable.  The art of man has, however, at length conquered these
difficulties, and surmounted every obstacle, for about the year 1772, an
excellent road was formed along the edge of this once tremendous and
dangerous precipice, under the direction of the ingenious Mr. Sylvester,
parliament having generously voted a grant for this purpose.  Prior to
this event several fatal accidents had happened here; and one or two
nearly miraculous escapes are recorded in Pennant’s tour through North
Wales.  At that time no carriage passed this way, and consequently all
the travelling was either on foot or on horseback.  Dean Swift was
generally a pedestrian, and in one of his rambles he left these lines,
written on a pane of glass, at the old inn (now a farm-house) near this
mountain:—

    ‘Before you venture here to pass,
    Take a good refreshing glass;
    And when you are over take another,
    Your fainting spirits to recover.’

“Before the traveller descends from the top of Sychnant, just mentioned,
to the little vale Dwygyfylchi, he should deviate a little to the left,
in order to examine some antiquities, near a place called Gwddw Glâs, in
that parish.  Here are several circles of stones, of various diameters,
and large Carneddau, viz. barrows, or tumuli; supposed to have been
memorials of those heroes who fell in the field of battle, as cistfaens,
or stone coffins, are frequently discovered in some of these circular
heaps or collection of stones.  The principal circle now consists of ten
upright stones, at unequal distances: the largest is eight feet three
inches high; on the ground is another, eleven feet two inches; the
diameter of this circle is eighty feet.

“Near this are four other smaller circles; in the centre of one is a flat
stone, the remains of a cromlech, from which it may be conjectured that
it was a Druidical or bardic circle.  About a quarter of a mile from
these is a large circle, composed of small stones, and near it another of
large stones; and not far from these another circle, composed of smaller
stones.

“Near the last is a huge upright stone, called Maen y Campiau, or the
stone of games; and nearly contiguous is a carnedd, and a small circle of
twelve stones; adjoining to these are also a great number of what are now
called in this country Cyttiau Gwyddelod (woodmen or Irishmen’s huts),
being the foundations of small buildings, made of round stones; and the
vestige of a road is still visible in a direction from hence towards the
Conway.  Some of these last might probably have been the summer
habitations or encampment of a small detachment of the Roman legion,
stationed at Caer Rhun, or Conovium, for the purpose of protecting their
cattle.

“Having mentioned Maen y Campiau, it may not perhaps be considered a
digression to enumerate the twenty-four Welsh or British games, of which
there were ten _Gurolgampau_, or manly games; viz. 1. to lift up great
weights; 2. running; 3. leaping; 4. swimming; 5. wrestling; 6. riding.
These six were styled Tadogion, viz. pertaining to fathers, or grown up
persons, and required only bodily strength and activity; this last,
Marchogaeth, is supposed to have included charioteering, or the skilful
driving and management of different kinds of carriages.  The other four
were, 1. archery; 2. playing with the sword and buckler; 3. playing with
the Cledda deuddwrn, or two-handed sword; 4. Chwarau ffoun ddwybig, or
playing with the two-end staff or spear.  Next to these were the ten
_Mabolgampau_, or those more peculiarly adapted to young men; viz. 1.
coursing; 2. fishing; 3. fowling; the remaining seven were of the
domestic kind; 1.  Barddoniaeth, or poetical composition; 2.  Chwareu’r
Delyn, or playing upon the harp; 3. reading Welsh; 4. singing with the
harp; 5. singing between three or four, most probably in alternate
stanzas, or Pennillion; 6. drawing or painting, particularly coats of
arms; 7. heraldry.  After these were four _Gogampiau_, or minor games;
viz. 1. Chwarau Gwydd-bwyll, a game similar to that of draughts; 2.
Chwarau Tawl-Bwrdd, probably back-gammon, as this word is supposed to be
derived from the Welsh language; viz.  Back, little, and Cammawn, or
Gammon, Battle; and Tawl-Burdd means the toss on the table; 3. Chwarau
Ffristeal, or the game of the dice-box; in what manner it was played is
not known at present; 4. Cyweiraw Telyn, or the tuning of the harp.

“After visiting these circles, the traveller may either proceed to the
top of Pen-maen-mawr, or descend to the high road, near Dygyfylchi
Church, not far from which, just at the foot of Pen-maen-bach, is
Pendyffryn, the seat of T. Smith, Esq.  In the clefts of the rocks, above
the turnpike-gate, near Pen-maen-mawr, grows the Cratægus Aria, or white
beam-tree.  Mr. Pennant observes, the Swiss procure a good kind of ardent
spirit from the berries.  The summit of this mountain seems to have been
fortified by two or three walls, one within the other; and there are
still visible the remains of a great number of huts, or small buildings,
most probably at one time the habitations of soldiers; it was, no doubt,
a strong military post, and is supposed to have been made use of by the
Britons and Romans.  The Roman road from Segontium to Conovium must have
passed near it, probably on the south side; and this high mountain, so
conspicuous and so easily distinguished at a distance, formed a kind of
link, no doubt, in the military chain of communication between this
county and Denbighshire, as it is very visible from Dinorwick (now called
Pen Dinas), a Roman encampment in the parish of Llandeiniolen, near
Caernarvon on the west, and from many fortified eminences in the other
county, on the east.  The usual signals in ancient times were fires by
night, and a particular kind of flag by day.  Having examined the immense
ruins of Braich y Dinas, we now proceed along the high road, through the
parish of Llanfairfechan; and leaving that small church on an eminence, a
little to the left of the road, and on the right, Brynn y Neuadd, an old
neglected family seat, at one time the property of Humphrey Roberts, Esq.
and afterwards conveyed to the Wynnes of Plas Newydd, near Denbigh, by
the marriage of his daughter to a son of that family: we soon pass
Gorddinog,” &c.—_Williams_.

Pursuing a good turnpike-road from Mrs. Crawley’s, we presently came in
sight of the towers of



CONWAY CASTLE,


standing on a rock, so picturesquely alluded to in the Bard of Gray.

    “On a rock, whose haughty brow
    Frown’d o’er old Conway’s foaming flood,
    Robed in a sable garb of woe,
    With haggard eyes the poet stood.”

                     [Picture: Conwy Bridge & Castle]

The castle, built by Edward I., is a magnificent fortress, in the form of
a parallelogram.

An air of proud sublimity, united with singular wildness, characterises
the place.  The evening was far advanced, and part of the ruins were
shining with the purple glow of the setting sun, whose remaining features
stood in darkened majesty, when we entered this monument of desolation.
Passing over a plank, originally the site of the drawbridge, we came into
the outward court, strongly defended with battlements; from thence we
examined the grand entrance of the castle, with its several projecting
abutments, similar in style to those of Caernarvon.  On the south side of
the court is the grand hall, measuring an hundred and thirty feet by
thirty-two, with eight light Gothic arches, five of which are still in
good condition.  At one end is the chapel, with a large window, a
beautiful specimen of Gothic architecture.  It was founded on the solid
rock, by Edward I., in the year 1284; the walls are from eleven to
fifteen feet thick: all the towers are defended by small round turrets,
projecting two or three feet over, with a regular communication round the
whole castle by galleries, on the same plan as at Caernarvon.  The steps
are decayed and broken, and the looseness of the stones rendered a
footing very insecure; but, impelled by an irresistible curiosity, we
ascended the most perfect tower, and an extensive prospect presented
itself to our view.  The foundation of one of the principal towers,
looking towards a small river, which here joins the Conway, has lately
given way, and torn down with it part of the building; the remainder now
hangs in an extraordinary manner.  The whole town is enclosed with strong
walls, and defended by a number of towers, which communicate with the
castle by a gallery; there are likewise several gateways at certain
distances.

The ancient church next attracted our attention, but did not detain us
long, as the monuments for the Wynnes are the only things worthy of
inspection, except the following inscription, which is engraved on a flat
stone, in the nave of the church: “Here lyeth the body of Nicholas
Hookes, of Conway, Gent. who was the 41st child of his father, William
Hookes, Esq. by Alice, his wife, and father of 27 children; who died the
20th day of March, 1637.”  Few districts in the world can, perhaps,
produce a record similar to the preceding.

From thence we surveyed the remains of the college, which in the reign of
King Edward I. was intended for the instruction of youth.  It is now in
complete ruins: the workmanship curious, with several sculptured arms.
In this town is an ancient house, built in the form of a quadrangle, by
the Wynnes, in the time of Queen Elizabeth, now inhabited by poor
families.  The house is adorned after the fantastical fashion of the
times in which it was erected; the roof is singularly carved, and the
front decorated with the arms of England, with several curious crests,
birds, and beasts: it bears the date of the year 1585.  The arms of
Elizabeth are carved over the door, fronting the street.

The river Conway has been celebrated from the earliest period of British
history for its pearl fishery.  Pliny asserts that Julius Cæsar dedicated
to Venus Genetrix, in her temple at Rome, a breast-plate, set with
British pearls; and other authorities go so far as to assign the desire
to get possession of these jewels, as one of the reasons of his invading
the British isles.  The shell in which they are found is called the pearl
muscle, and is the same which by Linnæus is termed Mya Margaritifera.

The fish, which generate these concretions, are considered in a sickly
state; and it is said that on their being squeezed, they can and will
eject them, which they occasionally do spontaneously on the sands.  I am
given to understand that a very considerable trade is carried on by an
individual, very snugly, at this very day, in pearls collected from the
Conway and adjacent coast.  Some years ago Sir Robert Vaughan appeared at
court with a button and loop in his hat, set with pearls from the Conway;
and Mr. Edward Llwyd says, that the pearls found here are as large and as
well coloured as any in Great Britain.

“Immediately at the foot of the castle,” says a recent traveller, {243}
“a suspension bridge is thrown over the previously dangerous ferry, in
the erection of which great taste has been exhibited.  Castellated towers
support the chains, and where the road enters the town a toll-house, in
the shape of a dilapidated tower, has been erected, which perfectly
harmonizes with the view around it, and taken altogether, the bridge
seems to be the draw-bridge of the castle, and does not detract from the
antique grandeur of the scene.  Mr. Telford is the architect of this, as
well as of the Menai Bridge; and though it possesses nothing of the
immense proportions, it is equally elegant and well adapted to its
situation.”

Edward the First made this a free borough.  It is now governed by one
alderman, a recorder, coroner, water-bailiff, and two serjeants-at-mace,
chosen annually, and is a contributory borough with Caernarvon, Pwllheli,
Nevin, and Criccaeth, in returning a member to parliament.  Its market is
on Friday.

The usual route, and the one which we intended to pursue, laying by St.
Asaph and Chester, we determined first to explore some of the beauties of
the vale of Conway; and with this object in view, took the road leading
to Llanwrst: it possesses the charming varieties of wood, water, and a
richly cultivated country, backed by mountain scenery.  We soon reached
Caer Rhun, the site of the ancient Conovium of the Romans, where the
tenth legion were stationed.  The late Rev. Hugh Davies Griffith, vicar
of the parish, and a gentleman well known for his antiquarian researches,
traced out here the remains of a Roman pottery: many utensils of various
sorts had previously been found, mostly imperfect, some well designed and
very curious.  Amongst other things found here, was a small brazen
circular shield, of curious workmanship, embossed, a little more than a
foot in diameter, and with a projecting pike of wrought iron, of about
four inches and a half, placed in the centre; it had circles of brass
studs, and appeared to have been lined with leather and stuffed with
hair.  Numerous Roman coins were likewise found, and near this is a hill,
called Myndd Caer Leon, or the _Hill of the Legion_.  Mr. Williams says,
“This legion was denominated Antoniana Augusta.  The XXth, stationed at
Chester (Caer Lleon Gawr, or Caer Lleion ar Ddyfrdwy), was distinguished
by the name of Vicessima Victrix: and the Second Legion, stationed at
Caer Leon, in Monmouthshire, or Caer Lleon ar Wysc, was known by the
title of Augusta Britannica.  There was, no doubt, a Roman road from
hence to Segontium, on the west, and to Varium or Bodvarri and Caerwys on
the east, and another probably through Dolyddelen, to Sarn Helen and
Tommen y Mur, in Merionethshire; Pen y street, Dolgelly, Castell y Beri,
near Tal y Llynn, to Penal, near Machynlleth, where there was a Roman
encampment, and where very considerable remains were discovered.”

The next object worthy of attention is Rhaiadr Mawr, or the Great
Waterfall, about seven miles from Conway; Mr. Bingley’s account of which
is so correct and spirited, that I shall give it verbatim:—

    “I ascended along a winding path, which, after about a quarter of an
    hour’s walk, conducted me to the bed of the river, near the station
    from whence it was to be seen to the greatest advantage.  The water,
    from the late dry weather, was very inconsiderable; still, however,
    the scene was highly picturesque.  From the upper part two streams
    descended at some distance from each other.  The range of rock, down
    which the water was thrown, was very wide and extremely rude, being
    formed in horizontal ledges, into deep clefts and enormous chasms.
    On the various lodgments of the rocks were numerous pendant shrubs.
    The dark shades of the clefts, and the irregular brilliancy of the
    prominent features of the scene, from the reflected rays of the sun,
    contrasted again with the foaming of the water, were truly grand.
    The colours of the rock, which were every where also very dark, were
    rich and highly varied.  The streams united a little above the middle
    of the fall: they rushed from thence in foam over the rocks, and,
    from the deep shelvings, in many places the water was entirely hidden
    from me below.  In addition to this, nearly every different stratum
    of rock threw it into a fresh direction.  In the whole scene there
    was the utmost irregularity.  On the right of the cataract the
    enclosing rocks were nearly perpendicular, very lofty, and crowned
    with pendant foliage.  Those on the left were very high and towering,
    adorned on the lodgments with grass and ferns.  I should have made a
    drawing of this cataract, had it been possible to have expressed it
    with any justice on an octavo plate; this, however, was altogether
    impossible.  The above description is expressed in terms infinitely
    too feeble to give any correct idea of the scene.  This waterfall
    appeared to me by much the most grand and picturesque of any that I
    have seen in North Wales.

    “In descending to the road, I had an extensive view along the whole
    vale of Conway.  It appeared from this eminence to be much varied,
    and on the whole very beautiful.”

Besides this, many other waterfalls and cascades, along this charming
river, will amply repay this digression, and entice the tourist forward
to its junction with the Lledr and Machno.  Near Llanwrst, Gwydir-house
and woods, and at that place the church, and the famous bridge built by
Inigo Jones, will engage his attention.  Beyond the vale is beautiful and
romantic, far exceeding my powers of description; all that wood, water,
and the most rugged rocks and picturesque mountain scenery can do to
delight the lovers of nature, heightened by the relief of a highly
cultivated country, interspersed with gentlemen’s seats, frequently
breaking on the view, are here amply afforded them.  Proceeding up the
vale, and through Gwydir woods, you reach Bettws y Coed; thence to the
new iron Waterloo Bridge over the Conway, on the great Irish road, visit
the falls of the Conway and Machno, return to Bettws, proceed up the
Lligwy to view the Rhaidar y Wennol, or Cataract of the Swallow, which,
when it possesses its customary body of water, is truly tremendous.  In
going from hence to the excellent inn at Capel Curig, by making a circuit
of about four or five miles to the southward, you may visit Dolwyddelan
Castle, the residence of Meredith ap Jevan, before mentioned in the
account of Llyn.  From Capel Curig, proceeding towards Bangor, till the
road nearly reaches the river Ogwen, you may with labour and difficulty
trace the old Roman road, from Segontium to Conovium, or, without any
risk of satiety, retread your steps by Llanwrst to Conway.

The trade of Conway consists in the exportation of slate and copper from
the Llandidno mines, from whence the finest specimens of Malachite copper
is brought.  The town and castle of Conway are seen to great advantage in
crossing the river, which is here about half a mile over, and at high
water washes the walls of that massy ruin: in the middle of the channel
is a small rocky island.  We observed from this situation the two castles
called Bodscallan and Dyganwy; the small remains of the latter stand on a
high rock above the river.  The former is a beautiful seat of the
Mostyns.

Crossing the ferry we determined on exploring the Criddin, a Commot, or
Hundred of Caernarvonshire, at the extremity of which is that noted
landmark, the Great Orme’s Head.  This commot is supposed to contain some
of the best arable and meadow land in this part of the principality; the
shores and cliffs likewise afford excellent limestone, and pebbles for
paving; both of which are shipped in large quantities for Liverpool and
other markets.  Dyganwy, or Dinas Gonwy, _The Fort of the Conway_, was
once the residence of Maelgwyn Gwynedd, Prince of North Wales, who here
held his court.  The following anecdote of which, as connected with
Taliesin, the British Bard, I shall give the heads of from Mr. Bingley:

    “Gwyddno Garanhir, brother of Maelgwyn, who likewise resided in the
    neighbourhood, had near his residence a weir, called Gored Wyddno,
    _Gwyddno’s Weir_, which is even yet known by the same name, and
    belongs to Sir Thomas Mostyn, as owner of the house of Bodscallon.
    Elphin, the son of Gwyddno, was an extravagant youth; and at one time
    he had so greatly exhausted his finances, that he was compelled, as a
    temporary relief, to ask his father the benefit of the weir for a
    single night.  The request was complied with, but not a single fish
    was caught. {248}  A leathern basket was however taken up, which, on
    examination, was found to contain a child.  This was an unfortunate
    circumstance to one so much in want of a successful tide.  Elphin
    had, however, the humanity to direct that the child should be taken
    care of, and that no expense should be spared in his education.  The
    youth, who was named Taliesin, was introduced by Elphin at his
    father’s court; and his first step towards fame was in reciting there
    a poem containing the history of his life, called Hanes Taliesin.
    Maelgwyn Gwynedd was greatly surprised at his talent, and himself
    became afterwards his patron.  Some time after this a dispute took
    place at Diganwy, betwixt Elphin and his father, of so serious a
    nature, as to cause the former to be thrown into prison.  His
    attentions to Taliesin now proved of the utmost importance to him.
    The bard addressed to the prince a poem on his patron, which excited
    his commiseration, and caused him to issue an immediate order for
    Elphin’s release.  Taliesin continued to receive, throughout the
    whole of his life, the attentions, the admirations, and the applause
    which his talents justly merited; and after his death he was honoured
    with the appellation of _The Prince of the British Bards_.”

Gloddaith woods particularly, and most part of this small district,
afford considerable amusement to the botanist; as will the libraries of
Sir Thomas Mostyn, Bart. at Gloddaith and Bodysgallen, to the antiquarian
and the historian.  The former of these seats was built in the reign of
Queen Elizabeth; since which period both mansion and furniture have
experienced but trifling alterations.

The tremendous precipice on the west side of the Ormshead is worthy of a
visit.  The sea view is very extensive, and generally enlivened by the
passing of Liverpool shipping; you likewise command a view of the Isle of
Man, and occasionally views of the Irish, Lancashire, and the distant
haze of the Scottish coast.  The sea birds frequent these cliffs and
shores in great abundance, more particularly gulls, razor-bills,
guillemots, corvorants, herons, and the peregrine falcon; the latter of
which, in the days of falconry, was held in such high estimation, that
the celebrated Lord Burleigh sent a letter of thanks for a present of a
cast of hawks from this place to an ancestor of Sir Thomas Mostyn’s.
Unprotected by any shelter, on the summit of the high promontory, stands
the small church of Llandudno, but little famous for any thing but its
singular situation, and its service as a beacon.  Proceeding along the
mail-road, with the sea on our left, and low rocks on our right, nothing
particular attracted our attention, till in descending a hill about two
miles from the neat bathing-town of



ABERGELE,


we observed, on our right, two immense caverns, about half way up the
mountain; they are called Cavern-arogo, and run four or five hundred
yards into the ground; but their real extent has never been ascertained
with accuracy.  From these mountains vast quantities of lime are shipped
for Liverpool and many parts of England.

Abergele, situate on the edge of Rhuddlan Marsh, is a small neat town of
one street, resorted to in the summer season for bathing.  The sands
afford excellent walking; in the evening we lingered on the beach for a
considerable time, enjoying the calm but cheerful beauty of nature, and
inhaling the pure sea-breeze—for

    . . . “The wind was hush’d;
    And to the beach each slowly-lifted wave,
    Creeping with silver-curl, just kiss’d the shore,
    And slept in silence.”

                                                           MASON’S GARDEN.

With pleasure mixed with reverential awe, we trod Rhuddlan Marsh, so
celebrated in the annals of history.  Here the ill-fated Richard II. was
betrayed into the hands of Bolingbroke, and taken prisoner to Flint: here
Offa, King of Mercia, met his untimely death: here the Welsh, under the
command of Caradoc, in the year 795, were defeated in a conflict with the
Saxons, and their leader slain in the action.  This memorable and tragic
event is handed down to posterity by an ancient celebrated and affecting
ballad, called Morva Rhuddlan, or the Marsh of Rhuddlan, composed by the
bards on the death of Prince Caradoc.

The ground we trod, connected with so many events, revived in our minds
the memory of past ages; a series of historical events came to our
recollection; events that are now so distant, as almost to be obliterated
from the page of history.  Passing over a bridge of two arches, thrown
over the river Clwyd, we entered



RHUDDLAN,


once the largest and most respectable town in North Wales.  Walking over
the ruins of the castle, in which Edward I. kept three Christmases, I
recurred, by a natural association of ideas, to the times when the
parliament-house, the halls, and courts, echoed with the voices of those,
who have been long since swept from the earth by the unerring hand of
death.  One solitary Gothic window is now only remaining to distinguish
the old parliament-house, where King Edward the First instituted that
famous code of laws, under the title of the statute of Rhuddlan, from a
neighbouring barn: and what once contained the parliament of England, now
contains nothing but bark for the supply of a tan-yard.

The old castle is built of red stone; it consists of a square area,
strongly fortified with a wall.  This court we entered through the grand
gateway, between two round towers: the opposite side corresponds.  The
whole is encircled by a deep entrenchment faced with stone on the river
side, with two square towers, one of which still remains.

“The Bishop of St. Asaph,” says Mr. Evans, “distributes among the farmers
of the parish of Rhyddlan, five guineas for the best crop of turnips; and
three guineas for the best crop of wheat upon a fallow, manured only with
lime compost.  All the competitors partake of a feast on the day of
decision; and the victors, beside their premiums, have the honourable
distinction of being crowned with the garland of Ceres, by some of the
ladies present.”  This stimulus has had great effect in exciting a spirit
of improvement.

The road from hence to



ST. ASAPH,


affords a most rich and beautiful walk, extending along the celebrated
vale of Clwyd.  This rich tract of land, called the Eden of North Wales,
extends in length about twenty-five miles, and in breadth about eight.
The neighbourhood of Ruthin affords the best view of this vale.  Though
it is by no means so interesting and romantic as the vale of Glamorgan,
yet its high cultivation, and the picturesque, but moderate height of the
hills, rising on each side of the river Clwyd, renders the scenery
pleasing: its chief produce is corn.  Both these vales claim the
attention of the traveller; and both have to boast of particular
beauties.  One mile from St. Asaph we passed, on our right, the elegant
seat of Sir Edward Lloyd.  We still followed the banks of the Clwyd; and
at the farthest extremity a light elegant bridge of seven arches, with
the dark tower of St. Asaph’s cathedral rising on an eminence just over
it, gave a picturesque effect to the whole scenery.

The town itself is built on a hill, in one straight line, with a few neat
houses.  The cathedral naturally demands attention: the inside is
remarkably neat and elegant, entirely Gothic, with the ceiling of
chesnut, and open ribs like the skeleton of a ship.  The monument of
David ap Owen, bishop of this diocese, was particularly pointed out to
us.  The bishop’s palace has been entirely rebuilt by the present
diocesan.  The choir consists of a bishop, dean, six canons, seven
prebends, and four vicars.  There are no monuments in the churchyard, and
few of any importance within its venerable walls.

St. Asaph receives its derivation from its patron, who established a
bishop’s see here, in the year 590: but in British it is named Llan-Elwy,
on account of the conflux of the Elwy with the Clwyd.  It is singular,
that the cathedral is not used as a parish church, as all the other Welsh
cathedrals are; and that the bishop’s jurisdiction extends over no entire
county, but includes part of Flintshire, Denbighshire, Montgomeryshire,
Merionethshire, and Shropshire.

From St. Asaph to Holywell the distance is about ten miles.  The first
part of the road continuing through the vale of Clwyd, affords prospects
of agricultural riches rarely excelled; the latter part is rocky and
rugged, but pleasant.  On the one side you enjoy the distant view of
Denbigh, with its ancient castle fast mouldering to decay, and on the
other that of Rhyddlan, backed by the distant sea view.  The whole of
this tract of country abounds in lead-mines and calamine.  Between this
road and the sea stands Downing, late the residence of the celebrated Mr.
Pennant, to whom the world was so much indebted for his numerous and
laborious literary publications.

On the summit of a lofty hill called Carreg, in the parish of Whitford,
about two miles to the left of the road, is an ancient circular building,
which Mr. Pennant believed to have been a Roman pharos, constructed to
assist in the navigating the difficult channel of Seteia Portus to and
from Deva.  This appears the more probable, as it still forms a prominent
landmark, highly useful to the small Welsh sloops and coasting vessels,
which in fine weather drop along with the tides from the lime-rocks,
between Llandrillo and Llanddulas, to Parkgate, Liverpool, &c.; in one of
which I witnessed the rising sun just as we opened the rich and beautiful
vale of Clwyd;—a scene so pre-eminently fine and impressive, that the
lapse of five-and-twenty years has not effaced it from, or weakened it
in, my recollection.



HOLYWELL


is a place of considerable trade and bustle, with easy access to the sea.
It is pleasantly situated on the side of a hill, possessing many good
houses; but is chiefly famous for its well, which although only little
better than a mile from the sea, furnishes a sufficiency of water to work
eleven mills and factories, viz. one corn mill, four cotton mills, and
six copper and brass mills and forges.

The quantity of water thrown up is, on an accurate calculation, proved to
exceed eighty-four hogsheads in a minute.  It is covered by a small
Gothic building, the canopy of which is of most delicate workmanship.
For its origin, miracles, &c. I must refer the reader to the Life of St.
Winifred, or some of the numerous authorities that have particularized
them: suffice it to say, that the devotees of this saint (whose head was
cut off, and so effectually replaced on her shoulders, that she survived
it fifteen years) were very numerous; and in the last age the well was so
noted, that, according to Mr. Pennant, “the prince, who lost three
kingdoms for a mass, payed his respects, on the 29th of August, 1686, to
our saint, and received as a reward a present of the very shift in which
his great grandmother, Mary Queen of Scots, lost her head.”

“The church being situated below the town, the sound of the bell can be
heard but a short distance; to summon the inhabitants to their devotions,
therefore, a person parades the town with a large bell, suspended from
his neck.” {256a}

The supply of water from this well is scarcely ever perceived to vary;
and it has never been known to be frozen, a circumstance of far greater
importance than its miraculous qualities.

The stage from Holywell to Flint is only six miles, and, like Flint
itself, affords little subject for observation or remark.



FLINT


is a small market town, created a free borough in the reign of Philip and
Mary, and confirmed in the 12th of William III.  It, in conjunction with
Caerwys, Rhyddlan, Caergwrle, and Overton, sends a member to parliament,
elected by such inhabitants as pay parochial taxes.  The castle, begun by
Henry II., and finished by Edward I., stands upon a rock, in a marsh upon
the south bank of the Dee; the channel of which once ran in considerable
depth under its walls, which, even at the present day, are washed at high
tides.  By whom, and when it was founded, is uncertain.  It is chiefly
famous for being the place where Edward II. received his obnoxious
favourite, Piers Gaveston, on his return from banishment; and where
Percy, Earl of Northumberland, surrendered Richard the Second into the
hands of the Duke of Lancaster.  “When Richard arrived at Flint,” says
the author of the Beauties, Harmonies, and Sublimities of Nature, {256b}
“he said to the Duke of Lancaster, afterwards Henry the Fourth, ‘Cousin
of Lancaster, you are welcome.’  ‘My Lord the King,’ returned the Duke,
bowing three times to the ground, ‘I am arrived sooner than you appointed
me; because the common report of your people reached me, that you have,
for one and twenty years, governed them rigorously, and with which they
are by no means satisfied.  It is my desire, if God be willing, to assist
you to govern them better for the future.’  ‘Fair cousin,’ returned the
wounded monarch, assuming an air of cheerfulness, ‘Fair cousin, since it
pleases you, it pleases me also.’  The King and the Duke soon after made
their entry into London, which Shakspeare has described so beautifully.
Richard resigned his crown; and, as a recompence, was soon after murdered
in Pontefract castle.”  In the reign of Charles the First, the castle was
repaired by Sir Roger Mostyn, and sustained a lengthened siege, till all
the provisions were exhausted, when it made an honourable surrender in
December 1646: it, with Hawarden and other castles, was dismantled by
order of Parliament.  In proceeding to Chester, you regain the high road
at Northop: three miles and a half beyond which, to the left, about a
quarter of a mile from the road, on the edge of a glen, and surrounded by
a wood, are to be traced the remains of Euloe Castle, a small fortress:
the proprietor of which, named Howell, was entitled by ancient custom to
give the badge of a silver harp to the best harper in North Wales.  But
it is chiefly remarkable for the defeat which Henry the Second received
in the wood in its vicinity, from David and Conan, the two sons of Owen
Gwynedd.  By stratagem, they drew the English army into a narrow pass
betwixt the hills; when attacking its front, flanks, and rear, they
routed it with the most dreadful slaughter.  Regaining the road, you soon
reach Hawarden, a small neat town, chiefly remarkable for the ruins of
its ancient castle, so frequently mentioned in history: its remains are
to be traced in the grounds of Lady Glynne, at the east end of the town;
little now remains of them, but, from the eminence on which they stand,
you command a fine view of the Dee and the county of Chester.



CHESTER,


Carlisle, and Conway, are the only three British towns or cities that
have preserved their ancient walls anyways entire.  Those of Chester are
nearly two miles in circumference, and sufficiently broad to afford room
for two persons to walk abreast; for this purpose they are now kept in
repair, affording an agreeable lounge, fresh air, and, from the different
sides, varied and extensive views.

The rows are another peculiarity belonging to Chester: the streets, which
are much broader than those of old towns or cities generally, are
considerably excavated: on this lower level are the warehouses, kitchens,
&c. and on the first floor, with galleries, or rows as they are termed,
in the front, are the shops.  These galleries afford a covered walk for
foot passengers: they are inconvenient, particularly for ladies, as at
every crossing you have to descend and ascend the different steps: they
give an air of great singularity to the city.

Chester was formerly termed Caerleon Gawr, or Vawr, and was, during the
time of the Romans, the station of the twentieth legion.  Numerous Roman
antiquities have been found here, such as altars, &c. and a _hypocaust_,
or furnace for heating a sudatorium, was a short time back to be seen at
the Feathers Inn.

The castle is situate at the north-west extremity of the city.  It was
founded by Hugh Lupus, in the reign of William the Conqueror, and has
within these few years undergone considerable alterations.  In it was
confined the beautiful, but unfortunate Mary Queen of Scots, after her
defeat at Langside.

The cathedral is a heavy irregular pile of building, affording little
either within or without worthy of observation.  It is built of bad
stone, on which the workmanship bestowed was quite good enough: it stands
on the site of the ancient Abbey of St. Werburgh.  The altar-piece is a
fine specimen of tapestry, representing the history of Elymas the
sorcerer, taken from one of the Cartoons of Raphael.

The bishop’s palace, in the Abbey Court, is a handsome modern stone
building.  The exchange, or town hall, is an elegant and useful fabric,
standing in the middle of the city.  It is supported on columns, and
contains, as well as the common hall, assembly rooms, with every
convenience for the corporation meetings and entertainments.  The shire
hall is a handsome stone building, with one of the most complete and
elegant court rooms in the kingdom.  The new gaol is likewise a
well-constructed edifice, having five yards, and all the necessary
conveniences for a separation of prisoners.

Anxious to view the superb seat of the Earl of Grosvenor, Eaton Hall, we
did not afford that time to examine this ancient city which it merited;
it will not, therefore, be right for the tourist to be satisfied with
this as a guide to its antiquities, but rather to purchase the local one,
which will afford every information.



EATON HALL,


the seat of Earl Grosvenor, recently erected by the present noble earl,
is a splendid Gothic mansion, standing on the site of the ancient fabric,
in an extensive park, surrounded with fine and venerable timber.  The
basement of the ancient pile has been preserved, but the superstructure
has been enlarged to double the original dimensions.  The style of
architecture is Gothic: but it is proper to observe, that the cathedral
Gothic, of the age of Edward the Third, as exhibited in York-Minster, the
church of Newark-upon-Trent, and other celebrated structures in England,
is chiefly imitated, especially on the outside; though Mr. Porden, the
architect, has not scrupled to avail himself of the low Tudor arch, and
the forms of any other age that suited his purpose, which was to adapt
the rich variety of our ancient ecclesiastical architecture to modern
domestic convenience.  The same style prevails through the whole of the
interior, but more or less embellished, to suit the uses of the
apartments respectively.  Round the turrets, and in various parts of the
balustrades, are Gothic shields, charged in relievo with the armorial
bearings of the Grosvenor family, and of other ancient families, that by
intermarriages the Grosvenors are entitled to quarter with their own.
The windows, which are rich in tracery, are of iron, cast from models in
wood by the iron-founders of Chester, and are, perhaps, the first that
have been made of that material, moulded on both sides and grooved to
receive the glass.  The walls, balustrades, battlements, and pinnacles,
are of stone, brought by land-carriage about sixteen miles, from quarries
near Fordsham.  It is of a light and beautiful colour, which harmonizes
with the hues of nature in the landscape.

The park is flat, but the distant country is elevated and various.  To
the west the mountains of Wales, with Moel-Famma, rise directly in front;
and to the south and east the hills of Shropshire and Cheshire, with that
remarkable knowl on which Beeston Castle is situated.  The city of
Chester lies on the north.  From various parts of the park and grounds
this noble mansion is seen to much better advantage than by the regular
approaches from Chester, &c.

“The entrance to the house is in the middle of the west front, under a
vaulted portico, which admits a carriage to the steps that lead to the
hall, a spacious and lofty room, occupying the height of two stories,
with a vaulted ceiling, embellished with the Grosvenor arms, &c. in the
knots that cover the junction of the ribs.  The pavement is of variegated
marbles in Gothic compartments.  On each of the sides is an ornamented
marble chimney-piece, and four niches with pedestals and canopies.  The
niches, it is probable, will hereafter be filled with statues, and the
walls covered with historical paintings; for which no family can furnish
more ample materials, as the heads of it were engaged in most of the
military transactions of the English in the chivalrous ages.  At the end
of the hall, a screen of five arches supports a gallery, that connects
the bed-chambers on the north side of the house with those on the south,
which are separated by the elevation of the hall.  Under this gallery,
two open arches to the right and left conduct to the grand staircase, the
state bed-room, and the second staircase; and opposite to the door of the
hall is the entrance to the saloon.  The grand staircase is highly
ornamented with niches and canopies, and with tracery under the landings,
and, in the principal ceiling, which is crowned with a double sky-light
of various-coloured glass.  The steps of the second staircase, with its
tracery and balustrade, are all of cast-iron.  The state bed-room is
lighted by two painted windows, with tracery and armorial bearings, and
contains a magnificent bed.  On entering the saloon, the eye is struck
with the splendour of three lofty painted windows, which contain, in six
divisions, the portraits of the Conqueror’s nephew, Gilbert le Grosvenor,
the founder of the Grosvenor family, and his lady; of William the
Conqueror, with whom Gilbert came into England; the Bishop of Bayeux,
uncle to the Conqueror; the heiress of the house of Eaton; and Sir Robert
le Grosvenor; who distinguished himself in the wars of Edward the Third,
and more particularly by his legal contest with Sir Richard le Scroope,
for the family arms—_azure_, _one bend_, _or_; in which Sir Richard
gained his point.  Sir Robert being obliged to add to them _un bordure
argent_—objecting to which, he was allowed to bear the arms of his
relation, Hugh Lupus, first Earl of Chester, _azure_, _a garbe_, _or_,
which is the family coat to this day.  These windows are from cartoons by
Mr. Tresham and others.  The saloon is a square of thirty feet, formed
into an octagon by arches across the angles, which give the vaultings a
beautiful form.  The chimney-piece is of statuary marble, and opposite to
it is an organ, both richly decorated.  On the left of the saloon is an
ante-room, that leads to the dining-room, and on the right another that
leads to the drawing-room, both decorated, but in a subordinate degree to
the state rooms, with which they communicate.  The windows of these rooms
are glazed with a light mosaic tracery, and exhibit the portraits of the
six earls of Chester, who, after Hugh Lupus, governed Cheshire as a
county palatine, till Henry the Third bestowed the title on his son
Edward; since which time the eldest sons of the kings of England have
always been Earls of Chester.

“The dining-room, situated at the northern extremity of the east front,
is about fifty feet long, and thirty feet wide, exclusive of a bow
containing five arched windows; the opening of which is thirty feet.  In
the middle window is the portrait of Hugh Lupus.  This portrait, with the
six Earls of Chester in the ante-room windows, are the work of Messrs.
Davenport, of Staffordshire, from cartoons by Mr. Singleton.  The ceiling
is of bold and rich tracery, with coats of arms in proper colours, and a
large ornamented pendant for a chandelier.  At the end, opposite to the
entrance, is an arched recess, containing the sideboard, and on each side
of it is a large niche, with its pedestal and canopy.  The opposite end
of the room has a similar recess, under which is the door from the
ante-room, and similar niches on each side of it.  Other niches and
canopies, of smaller size, ornament the jambs of the arched recess and
the bow.

“The drawing-room, which is at the southern extremity of the east front,
is of the same form and dimensions as the dining-room; with the addition
of a large window that looks to the south, and commands a view of the
groves and fertile meadows of Eaton, with the village and spire of
Oldford above them.  All the windows of this room are adorned with heads
and figures of the ancestors of the family; among which are the portraits
of the present Earl and Countess, in a beautiful brown _chiaro-oscuro_,
executed by Messrs. Bachelor and Silk, of Newman-street, and do credit to
the talents of those ingenious artists.  The niches, canopies, and other
ornaments, are the same in situation as those of the dining-room, but of
a lighter and richer design.  The ceiling is a piece of embroidery of the
nicest materials and workmanship; where all the coats borne by the
Grosvenor family are blazoned in their proper colours, and also the arms
of Egerton, Earl of Wilton, the father of the present Countess Grosvenor.
The arms of Egerton appear in various parts of the house, and will mark
the date of this fabric to future antiquaries, if all other memorials
should be forgotten or destroyed.  The colour of the saloon is blue, the
ante dining-room of light blue, the dining-room of a bright scarlet, the
ante drawing-room is hung with light blue satin, the drawing-room with
crimson velvet: the curtains and draperies are of crimson and gold satin,
with gold tassels and fringes, disposed in a striking and picturesque
manner by Messrs. Gillow, under the direction of Joseph Kay, Esq.
architect to the post-office.  All the other furniture of these
apartments is the work of the same artificers, and appropriate to the
style of the house.  The vistas from the dining-room, through the two
ante-rooms, and the saloon to the south window of the drawing-room, and
in the opposite direction from the drawing-room to the dining-room,
terminating with the splendidly-furnished sideboard of plate, perhaps
cannot be exceeded in novelty and variety by any thing of the kind in
England.

“The library is in the centre of the south front.  The ceiling and the
large bow-window, with their ornaments, are in the same style as the
rooms already described, but less rich.  The book-cases are of English
oak, with arches of tracery, buttresses, pinnacles, and battlements.  The
sitting-room of the Countess is the only room on this floor with
square-headed windows and a flat ceiling, and is an apartment of singular
beauty.

“The middle window of the saloon opens to a vaulted cloister, occupying
the space between the dining and drawing-rooms, in the east front, which
affords a sheltered walk in all weathers.  A flight of steps leads from
the cloister to a spacious terrace, three hundred and fifty or sixty feet
long, laid out in gravel walks and beds of flowers; from whence other
steps at each end and in the middle descend to the garden and pleasure
grounds, which are disposed with much taste.  The view from the terrace
is rich and various.

“Our limits will not admit of a particular description of the offices and
stables, though both are deserving of attention.  The latter surround a
court of 160 feet by 100, and are decorated with battlements and turrets,
and a clock tower, supported by flying buttresses, in a style of Gothic
architecture plainer than that of the house.

“Eaton Hall and the buildings here described, with their furniture, were
designed by and executed under the direction of Mr. Porden, of
Berners-street.” {266}

Having been highly gratified with the inspection of this noble edifice
and grounds, we returned to Chester by the side of the Dee, a pleasant
walk of about three miles; amply prepared to do justice to the hospitable
board of a kind friend.  Finding but little conversation to be obtained
from us, but on the subject of Eaton Hall, he kindly furnished us with
the preceding account, which he assured us had been corrected, and was
the best extant.

Hugh Lupus, before spoken of, was appointed by William the Conqueror,
first Earl of Chester; which was erected into a county palatine, enjoying
a sovereign jurisdiction, having parliaments and distinct courts of law.
There is still kept in the British Museum the identical sword with which
Lupus was invested with his dignity; by virtue of which the Earls of
Chester were created sword-bearers of England, and as such were
accustomed to officiate at the coronation of the kings of England.  On
the blade of this sword is the following inscription—_Hugo comes
Cestriæ_.

Chester is famed for the elegant manners of its inhabitants; and no city
in the kingdom can, I believe, boast of more polished or agreeable
society.  Our regret at leaving it was so great, that I should recommend
the tourist who carries with him letters of introduction to Chester, to
make arrangement for three or four days or a week’s stay at this engaging
place.

From Chester to Mold there is but little worthy of remark.  The distance
is about twelve miles: part of the road lies over an extensive flat,
called Saltney, a rich and well-cultivated tract of country.  Mold is a
small neat town, situate in a pleasant valley, surrounded by gentle
acclivities: here the assizes for the county of Flint are held.  It
formerly possessed a strong castle on the north side, built on a mount
called the Baily-Hill, of which but few vestiges are now remaining: it is
famed in history for the sieges it sustained.  The church is a handsome
structure, worthy of attention, built in the reign of Henry the Seventh,
and contains some fine monuments.

In the vicinity of Mold are large cotton spinning-mills, belonging to a
company at Manchester.  The two Leeswoods, one the residence of the Rev.
Hope Wynne Eyton, the other of Mr. Garnor, formerly of Sir George Wynne,
are more remarkable for the gardens, grounds, and more particularly the
beautiful iron gates at the entrance of the lawn of the latter, than for
size and architecture.

Tower, the residence of the dowager Mrs. Wardle, is a specimen of the
ancient _border-houses_ on the confines of Wales and Scotland.  It is a
square tower, consisting of three stories: in the lower story there still
remains a staple in the ceiling—a memorial of the rudeness of the times.
During the wars between the houses of York and Lancaster, this place was
inhabited by Reinallt ap Gryffydd Bleyddyn; one of the six gallant
captains who defended Harlech Castle on the part of Henry the Sixth.  He
and his people were in continual feud with the citizens of Chester.  In
1465, a considerable number of the latter came to Mold fair.  A fray
ensued between the two parties, and dreadful slaughter was made on both
sides.  Reinallt, however, got the victory, taking prisoner Robert Bryne
or Browne, Mayor of Chester, who, in his private capacity as a draper,
had attended the fair; whom he led to this tower, and hung on the staple
in his great hall.  About a mile north-west of the town is Maes Garmon,
famous for the celebrated battle of the Victoria Alleluiatica; in which
the Britons, under the two bishops, Germanus and Lupus, in Easter week,
448, defeated and destroyed the Picts and Saxons.  Germanus, having
previously directed his soldiers to repeat loudly and generally the word
he should give, he at the proper time pronounced _Alleluja_!  The whole
army caught the sacred sound; which they repeated with such energy, that
the mountains echoed the religious exultation; and both combined to
strike such terror into the invading foe, that he fled in the utmost
consternation: numbers fell by the sword, and as many perished in the
adjacent river.  This event is commemorated by the Hallelujah Monument,
erected by the late Nehemiah Griffith, Esq. of Rhual.  Mold has two inns,
the Black Lion and Griffin: its market is on a Saturday.

From Mold to Denbigh the distance is about sixteen miles and a half.  On
the left of the road is Kilken, visited on account of the beautiful
carved roof of its church, brought from Basingwerk Abbey, on the
dissolution of that house.  Above it, on the summit of Moel Famma, is the
monument, erected by the inhabitants of the counties of Flint and
Denbigh, in commemoration of his late Majesty, King George the Third,
having completed the fiftieth year of his reign.  The column was designed
by Mr. Harrison, of Lancaster, the architect of Chester Castle, &c.
Under the column were deposited in a vase numerous coins, illustrative of
this memorable reign.  Lord Kenyon laid the first stone on the 25th of
October, 1810.  In the neighbourhood of Kilken are numerous rich lead
mines and other works; amongst which, Pen y fron, belonging to Mr.
Ingleby, and Llyn y Pandu, held under Lord Grosvenor, by the late John
Wilkinson, Esq., are amongst the richest for their veins, these being
from four to six feet thick; but the great bodies of water from which
they have to free these mines, by means of powerful steam engines, are
great drawbacks upon their profits.

Moel Arthur, another portion of the Clwydian Hills, has on the top of it
the remains of a fortified British camp, having two very deep fossæ, with
corresponding valla, on the approachable sides; and on the precipitous
one is a smooth terrace, apparently levelled by art, for exercising the
troops.

Penbedw Hall, the seat of Mr. Williams, is a handsome object.  On the
left of the road, at a small distance from the house, is a carnedd or
tumulus, and the remains of a Druidical circle.

Bodfari is by some conjectured to be the Varis of Antoninus; but on this
point antiquaries and historians are not agreed, others believing Caerwys
to have been that station.

Bachegraig is a most singularly-constructed house, built by Sir Richard
Clough, who served his apprenticeship to Sir Thomas Gresham; and having
acquired a great fortune by trade, contributed liberally, like his
master, towards the building of the Royal Exchange.  The house consists
of a kind of centre and three sides, which form a quadrangle, enclosing a
square area or court.  The principal part comprises a hall, with an
adjoining parlour of large dimensions; and the other parts of the
building are carried up to the unusual height of six stories, terminating
with a cupola.  We from hence turned back to



CAERWYS,


which lies to the right of the road.  It was formerly a place of much
consequence, at which the assizes for the county of Flint were held, as
were likewise a species of British Olympics, it being the seat of the
“Eisteddfod,” or Sessions of the Bards and Minstrels; the grand theatre
where, in honourable contention, they tried their skill, poured forth
their extemporaneous effusions, awaked their harps to melody,

    “And gave to rapture all the trembling strings.”

Under the British princes, the bards and minstrels were associated in
corporate, or rather collegiate bodies; into which none were admitted but
such as had given proof of their skill in the respective sciences before
proper judges, duly appointed by royal commission.  And although the
institution is now dissolved, and the character officially no more, yet
those who, “born with music in their souls, _that_ wish to feast on
raptures ever new,” will consentaneously say,

    “But hail ye mighty masters of the lay,
    Nature’s true sons, the friends of man and truth!
    Whose song, sublimely sweet, serenely gay,
    Amused my childhood, and inform’d my youth.
    O let your spirit still my bosom soothe,
    Inspire my dreams, and my wild wanderings guide!
    Your voice each rugged path of life can smooth;
    For well I know, wherever ye reside,
    There harmony, and peace, and innocence abide.”

                                                       BEATTIE’S MINSTREL.

The distance from Caerwys to Denbigh is about ten miles.  You pass
Lleweni Hall, formerly occupied by the Hon. Thomas Fitzmaurice, uncle to
the Marquis of Lansdowne, brother to the Earl of Shelburne, and father of
the late noble possessor.  Mr. Fitzmaurice used here to bleach the cloths
made on his estates in Ireland.  He travelled to Chester in his coach and
six, and when there stood behind a counter selling cloth.  He lived with
the affected humility of a tradesman, and the pomp of a lord: his conduct
was singular, but his motives were good.



DENBIGH,


situated nearly in the centre of the vale of Clwyd, is a well-built town,
standing on the declivity of a hill.  A large manufactory of shoes and
gloves is here carried on, and annually supplies London with a vast
quantity.  The ruins of the Castle, still remaining on a rock commanding
the town, are too celebrated in history, and too cruelly shattered by the
ravages of war, to be passed unnoticed.  The principal entrance forms a
fine Gothic arch, with the statue of King Edward the First, its founder,
above it, in an elegant niche, curiously carved, encircled with a square
stone frame.  No part of this castle is perfect; but the huge thick
fragments, which are scattered in the most extraordinary and fantastical
manner, seem to tell its former magnificence; and a present view of
things, such as they are, with a retrospect of what they originally were,
spreads a gloom over the mind, and interrupts the pleasure of
contemplation; yet still the singular character of this ruin is
particularly interesting.  Masses of wall still remain, the proud
effigies of sinking greatness; and the shattered tower seems to nod at
every murmur of the blast, and menace the observer with immediate
annihilation.  Amongst these ruins we lingered till the whole was
silvered by the pale rays of the moon.  To form a conjecture on the
extent of its apartments is now impossible; but it is thus described by
Leland in his _Itinerary_.

“The castelle is a very large thinge, and hath many toures in it; but the
body of the work was never finischid.  The gate-house is a mervelus
strong and great peace of worke, but the fastigia of it were never
finischid.  If they had beene, it might have beene counted among the most
memorable peaces of workys in England.  It hath dyverse wardes and
dyverse portcolicis.  On the front of the gate is set the image of Henry
Lacy, Earl of Lincoln, in his stately long robes.  There is a nother very
high towre, and large, in the castelle, caullid the Redde Towre.  Sum
say, that the Earl of Lincoln’s sunne fell into the castelle welle, and
there died; wherapon he never passid to finisch the castelle.  King
Edward the Fourth was besiegid in Denbigh castelle, and ther it was
pactid betwene King Henry’s men and hym that he should with life departe
the reaulme, never to returne.  If they had taken King Edwarde there
debellatum fuisset.”  After the restoration of Charles II. it was blown
up by gunpowder.

The parish church stands within the walls of the original town.  Below
the castle are the fragments of an old church, which, for particular
reasons, that cannot now be ascertained, was never finished: it contains
nine windows on two sides, with a large and handsome one on the east.

In this town was born the famous Sir Hugh Myddleton.  The market is held
on a Wednesday: its distance from London, through Mold, is 218 miles.

In conjunction with Ruthin and Holt, it sends a member to Parliament.
The principal inns are the Bull and the Crown.

The vale of Clwyd still retains the character of luxuriant fertility.
About two miles from hence, in our way to



RUTHIN,


“Denbigh, fair empress of the vale,” with its tottering towers, formed a
most beautiful landscape; whilst the neat little hamlet of Whitchurch
peeped from among the pomp of groves.

At the small village of St. Fynnon St. Dyfnog, this curious inscription
over a door,

    “Near this place, within a vault,
       There is such liquor fix’d,
    You’ll say that water, hops, and malt,
       Were never better mix’d;”

invited the “weary-way wanderer” to partake of the _good things_ within.
This inclined us to be better acquainted with the author of this
_extraordinary_ stanza; and we entreated the landlord to be our director
to the much-esteemed well of St. Dyfnog.  Passing through the
church-yard, and from thence through the passage of an alms-house, we
reached a plantation of trees, with a broad gravel walk, almost concealed
from day’s garish light by the thick foliage.  This brought us to the
fountain, enclosed in an angular wall, which forms a bath of considerable
size; and so

    —“far retired
    Among the windings of a woody vale,
    By solitude and deep surrounding shades,
    But more by bashful modesty, conceal’d,”

that the “lovely young Lavinia” might here plunge into the flood, secure
from the intrusion of Palemon.  Many wonderful qualities are attributed
to this fountain; but it is more particularly celebrated for the cure of
the rheumatism; the water has no peculiar taste.  We returned by a
subterraneous path under the road, which led to the pleasure grounds
adjoining the seat of Major Wylyn.

Several seats were beautifully dispersed on each side of the vale; among
which Lord Bagot’s and Lord Kirkwall’s formed the most prominent features
in the landscape.

Ruthin is a large neat town, only divided from the parish of Llanruth by
a strong stone bridge: the church, which is beautifully situated, is a
handsome modern edifice: and the site of the old chapel is now converted
into a bowling-green.  Owen Glendwr, as an act of revenge on Lord Grey,
plundered the town in the year 1400, during a fair, and then retired
among the mountains.  In the last century, the loyalists fortified the
castle, and sustained a long siege in the year 1646.

We still continued skirting the rich vale of Clwyd; but winding up a
steep hill, overlooking the whole of it from one extremity to the other,
we were reluctantly compelled to bid a final adieu to all its vistas,
hamlets, steeples.  The whole prospect, glowing with luxuriance, seemed
to assume fresh beauties at this our farewell view: the cattle, which
were grazing in the shorn meadows, and beautifully contrasted with the
ripening corn, appeared more animated; and we discovered, or thought we
discovered, an additional number of villages, peeping from the woody
skirts of the sloping hills.  From this point the vale is certainly seen
to great advantage.  To give a still greater effect, a thunder-storm came
rolling on, and the clouds were

    “Silent borne along, heavy and slow,
    With the big stores of steaming oceans charged.”

This storm compelled us to seek for shelter in a miserable pot-house; but
the civility of the landlady fully compensated for its want of
accommodations.  The effects of the storm rendered the remainder of our
journey much more agreeable, and the heat less oppressive: a dull
uninteresting road continued till we arrived within four or five miles of



WREXHAM.


The contrast was too striking to escape our notice; but, having climbed a
steep eminence, the eye commanded an almost boundless range of land; and
the faint colour of the hills, retiring in the distance, was beautifully
combined with the mellow green of nearer woods.  The counties of
Cheshire, Shropshire, and a considerable part of Wales, were extended
like a map, for our inspection; the town of Wrexham, rising in the
bottom, animated the scene, with its noble tower overtopping the
numberless little steeples near it.  Close to the road we observed
several coal and lead mines, and a melting-house for forming lead into
pigs: these works belong to Mr. Wilkinson.

The dirty outskirts of Wrexham by no means prepossessed us in favour of
the town; but, viewing it more leisurely, we can safely affirm, that it
is not only the largest, but the best built town in Wales.

A friendly clergyman conducted us to the church, an elegant building of
the reign of King Henry the Seventh, and called one of the seven wonders
of Wales.  The tower is a hundred and forty feet high, and esteemed “a
beautiful specimen of the florid, or reformed Gothic, which prevailed
about that time.”  All the figures and ornaments are well designed, and
still in high preservation.  The inside is not less elegant; it has
lately been neatly repaired, with a good gallery and organ: the painted
altar-piece is well executed.  On the left, facing the altar, is a very
handsome monument by Roubilliac, to the memory of Mrs. Mary Middleton;
both the design and execution reflect the highest credit on the sculptor.
The subject is the Last Day: at the sound of the trumpet a tomb of black
marble bursts open, and a beautiful female figure, clothed in white,
appears rising from it, just awoke from the sleep of death; her form
dignified; candour, innocence, and celestial joy shine in her
countenance, and give it the most feeling and animated expression.  In
the back-ground an obelisk, supposed to be erected to her memory, is rent
asunder: above an angel, enveloped in a cloud, is pointing to brighter
scenes.

In this church are two other monuments, executed by the same celebrated
master, in memory of some of the Middletons.  Their designs, though
striking, cannot be compared to his Last Day.

The altar-piece was brought from Rome by Elihu Yale, Esq. whose tomb
bears the following inscription:—

    Born in America, in Europe bred,
    In Afric travell’d, and in Asia wed:
    Where long he lived and thrived—in London died.
    Much good, some ill he did, so hope all’s even,
    And that his soul, through mercy, ’s gone to heav’n!
    You that survive and read this tale, take care
    For this most certain exit to prepare.
    When blest in peace, the actions of the just,
    Smell sweet, and blossom in the silent dust.

Our worthy conductor, perceiving we were great amateurs of painting, and
careful that nothing of consequence should be passed unnoticed by us,
particularly wished us to examine the performance of a young artist then
at Wrexham.  A copy, amongst others, of a painting of Rembrandt’s, taken
by Mr. Allen from a celebrated picture, in the possession of Lord Craven,
was most ingeniously executed.  The subject is an old man instructing a
young boy; the attention of the latter most admirably preserved; the head
of the former, and the hand particularly, most highly finished.  Without
any exaggeration, this painting would do credit to the most scientific
painter, and be esteemed invaluable; it is therefore to be hoped, from
the hands of so young an artist as Mr. Allen, that this performance will
be disposed of where judges of painting may view it with a critic’s eye,
and recommend its merits to those who can afford to encourage industry
and ingenuity.

Our friend’s invitation to his hospitable parsonage, and agreeable
family, was too kindly urged possibly to be refused: and, in our way to



MARCH WIEL,


we visited the seat of P. Yorke, Esq.  The grounds and plantations are
very extensive; and the bowery walks, while they afford refreshing
shelter from a summer’s sun, allow partial views of the counties of
Cheshire and Shropshire, with the Wrekin and Brydyork Hills; in short,
through these groves

    “How long soe’er the wanderer roves, each step
    Shall wake fresh beauties, each short point presents
    A diff’rent picture—new, and yet the same.”

The tower of Wrexham, and the town itself, as occasion offers, is a
nearer and an additional charming object.  In an alteration of the walks,
a few years since, were discovered below the surface of the ground the
shattered walls of an ancient castle.  These fragments Mr. Yorke has left
unimpaired, and they remain a memento of the vicissitudes of fortune: the
entrenchments round the castle, and likewise the original site of the
keep, are still very apparent.

The house itself is very indifferent: Watt’s Dyke runs through part of
the grounds.  In a parlour opposite the garden we observed some fine
paintings of the Hardwicke family.  Mr. Yorke has dedicated another room
to the royal tribes of Wales, {279} where the arms and lines of the
descent, as far as they can be traced, are emblazoned and hung up.

In the coolness of the evening our hospitable host conducted us to the
neat and elegant little country church of March Wiel, lately cased with
stone; and in the year 1788 ornamented with a new painted window, by Mr.
Egington, near Birmingham.  The twenty-one compartments contain the arms
and crests of the Middletons and Yorkes, with rich transparent borders.
This window is undoubtedly very elegant, but the subject, in my opinion,
more adapted to a ball than an ornament to a church window.  The high
tower appears not in proportion with the body of the church.

Deeply impressed with sentiments of gratitude towards our reverend
friend, and sensible of his hospitality and kind intentions, we took our
leave of him early the next morning, and pursued our route to



RUABON,


purposing to visit Wynnstay Park, the much-admired seat of Sir Watkin
Williams Wynne.  On leaving March Wiel, a most delightful prospect spread
before us; in the retrospect, the tower of Wrexham Church brought to our
recollection the views of Magdalen College tower, in the vicinity of
Oxford.

The park of Wynnstay is well stocked with red deer; excellent
plantations; and the house is an elegant modern structure; but has
nothing in the inside particularly deserving the attention of the
traveller.  In the grounds the chief object worthy of inspection is a
very elegant obelisk, erected to the memory of the present Sir Watkin’s
father.  The height is a hundred and one feet; the base of it sixteen,
and the top nine, built with free-stone, and fluted.  Round the top is
formed a gallery, with a handsome urn in bronze, after an elegant design,
cast in London: round the base of the column are wreaths of oak leaves,
in the beaks of four eagles, cast in the same metal.  On the south-west
side is a door, with a stair-case within the obelisk leading to the top.
We regretted that the key could not be procured, as the prospect from
that elevation must be extremely fine.  On the other three sides an
appropriate inscription, in English, Welsh, and Latin, is to be carved.

Through this park runs Offa’s Dyke, thrown up by the great King of
Mercia, from whence it derives its name, to check the irruptions of the
Welsh, mark the confines of each country, and give greater security to
his own.  It begins at Basingwerk in Flintshire, and ends at Chepstow in
Monmouthshire; extending in a line of not less than one hundred and fifty
miles over rocks and mountains.  This great undertaking still retains the
ancient name of Clawdh Offa, or Offa’s Dyke.

Passing through the little village of Ruabon, situated at the extremity
of Sir Watkin’s park, a very interesting and picturesque country,
composed of rich valleys and gently sloping hills, presented itself to
our view; and, at some distance, we soon caught a glimpse of Chirk
Castle, a noble seat of the family of the Middletons, standing on an
eminence.  Four miles from Llangollen we inquired for the wonderful



PONTCYSYLLTY AQUEDUCT, {281}


(pronounced Pont y Casulte) or famous aqueduct, erected near that bridge,
over the river Dee, and found ourselves within half a mile of this great
and astonishing undertaking.  The stone of which it is built resembles
that of Portland; and the effect which it produces, from whatever point
it is viewed, is highly pleasing.  On the middle column is the following
inscription:

                         “The Nobility and Gentry of
                            The adjacent counties,
                       Having united their efforts with
                The great commercial interest of this country,
                 In creating an intercourse and union between
                              England and Wales,
              By a navigable communication of the three rivers,
                           Severn, Dee, and Mersey;
               For the mutual benefit of agriculture and trade,
                  Caused the first stone of this aqueduct of
                                PONTCYSYLLTY,
                To be laid on the 25th day of July, M.DCC.XCV.
                 When RICHARD MYDDLETON, of Chirk, Esq. M.P.
                      One of the original Patrons of the
                               Ellesmere Canal,
                           Was Lord of this Manor,
                      And in the reign of our Sovereign,
                              GEORGE the Third;
                       When the equity of the Laws, and
                          The security of Property,
                 Promoted the general welfare of the nation;
                    While the Arts and Sciences flourished
                            By his patronage, and
                    The conduct of Civil Life was improved
                               By his example.”

“Pont y Cyssyllte, a bridge of several arches, close to it, is quite
eclipsed by its stupendous height and magnitude.  In it we recognize the
great water conveyances of ancient Rome, which, though superior in point
of length, were inferior in other respects.  Its direction is north and
south, crossing the Dee at right angles.  It forms, connected as it is
with the surrounding fine scenery, a noble and magnificent picture; but
to view it to the best advantage, the stranger must ascend the
acclivities on either side of it: from whence he will be highly pleased
with a scene, in which there is every concomitant circumstance that can
please the lover of nature and art.”

The extent of the aqueduct is nine hundred and eighty-eight feet, and
exhibits nineteen arches, each forty-five feet span.  The summit has a
water-trough of cast iron, one thousand and nine feet in length, and in
breadth eleven feet eight inches.  The elegant piers lessen upwards
gradually, from ten feet width, and twenty-one feet depth at the base, to
seven feet width, and twelve feet depth at the top.  These piers are one
hundred and sixteen feet high from the river, and from their ending, to
the greatest height of the building, twenty feet; making the total
elevation, one hundred and twenty-six feet.  To each end of the aqueduct
are added ten feet six inches of iron work.  From centre to centre of
each arch are screwed together eleven strong iron plates, as
strengthened.

The lime rocks here are very great; and, by calcination on the spot, are
rendered fit for immediate use; and, as the Ellesmere canal is opened for
public traffic, they must yield immense profit to the proprietors, who
are now enabled to supply all the neighbouring counties, Chester,
Liverpool, &c.

Wood, water, and sloping hills, all combine to render this vale
interesting.  Several detached cottages are sprinkled through its wooded
declivities; and here and there a gentleman’s seat, “embosomed high in
tufted trees,” makes a pleasing feature in the fascinating landscape.
Returning to the turnpike road, a short saunter soon brought us to the
romantically-situated town of



LLANGOLLEN,


(pronounced Thlangothlen) completely environed with mountains, with a
high hill to our right, bearing on its narrow peak the small remains of
Castle Dinas Brân.  The bridge, adjacent to the town, thrown over the
rapid Dee, consisting of six arches, and formerly esteemed one of the
principal wonders of Wales, by no means answered our expectations.  Some
difficulty, no doubt, attended its first erection, as the foundation is
built on the solid rock.

The elegant description of the valley in the kingdom of Amhara, by Dr.
Johnson, is very applicable to Llangollen; for “all the blessings of
nature seemed here to be collected, and its evils extracted and
excluded.”  Without a sigh of regret, not like the discontented Rasselas,
I could here pass the remainder of my days, “in full conviction, that
this vale contains within its reach all that art or nature can bestow.  I
could pity those, whom fate had excluded from this seat of tranquillity,
as the sport of chance, and the slaves of misery.”  Such is the enviable
situation of Lady Eleanor Butler and Miss Ponsonby; who, thus veiled in
obscurity, have fitted up, in a true characteristic style, an elegant
little cottage, at the west extremity of the town, situated on a knoll.
The two rooms which are allotted for the inspection of strangers, are
very handsomely furnished: the dining-room is ornamented with drawings,
the most favourite spots in the vicinity being selected as the subjects.
The window commands a prospect of the mountains, which awfully rise in
front.  The study, looking on the well-arranged plantations of the
garden, was appropriately furnished with a choice collection of books.
We regretted, in the absence of the gardener, that we could not gain
admittance to the grounds.  The vale of Llangollen, and this enviable
retreat, have been the subject of much admiration, both in verse and
prose; and highly deserve the praises which have been lavished upon it:

    “Say, ivy’d Valle Crucis; time delay’d
       Dim on the brink of Deva’s wand’ring floods,
    Your ivy’d arch glitt’ring through the tangled shade,
       Your grey hills tow’ring o’er your night of woods;
    Deep in the vale recesses as you stand,
       And, desolately great, the rising sign command;
    Say, lovely ruin’d pile, when former years
       Saw your pale train at midnight altars bow;
    Saw superstition frown upon the tears
       That mourn’d the rash, irrevocable vow;
    Wore one young lip gay Eleanora’s {285a} smile?
    Did Zara’s {285b} look serene one tedious hour beguile?”

The bridge of Llangollen is thus described by the elegant pen of Mr.
Pennant:—“The bridge, which was founded by the first John Trevor, bishop
of St. Asaph, {285c} who died in 1357, is one of the Tri Thlws Cymru, or
three beauties of Wales: but more remarkable for its situation than
structure.  It consists of five arches; whose widest does not exceed
twenty-eight feet in diameter.  The river usually runs under only one;
where it has formed a black chasm of vast depth, into which the water
pours with great fury from a high broken ledge, formed in the smooth and
solid rock, which composes the whole bed of the river.  The view through
the arches, either upwards or downwards, is extremely picturesque.”

Having satisfied our curiosity, Dinas Brân, or Crow Castle, next invited
our attention; and having attained the summit of a steep and craggy hill,
commanding a pleasing view of Llangollen, we arrived at the ruins, which
crest this precipice.  The remains of this castle are now so trifling,
that it scarcely repays even the enthusiast the trouble of ascending.
Its appearance is by no means picturesque; not a tree to give effect to
the crumbling walls: nor has time spared one of the towers.  It was
formerly the residence of Myfanwy Vechan, so celebrated in verse.  The
castle is built of the stone which composes the hill, on which it is
erected.

The prospect is very pleasing.  Chirk Castle, Wynnstay Park, {286} and
many other seats of respectability, more particularly conspicuous.  Great
part of the vale, and the meandering course of the Dee, may here be
traced; whilst the opposite hills are shelved off in an extraordinary and
unusual manner, resembling so many walls or fortifications.

The author of the Beauties, Harmonies, and Sublimities of Nature, thus
describes his ascent up this mountain.  “The sun was shooting its evening
rays along the vale, embellishing every thing they touched.  It having
rained all the morning, the freshness with which spring had clad every
object, gave additional impulse to all our feelings.  Arrived at the
summit, the scene became truly captivating: for nature appeared to have
drawn the veil from her bosom, and to glory in her charms.  The season of
early spring, which, in other countries, serves only to exhibit their
poverty, displayed new beauties in this.  Nature had thrown off her
mantle of snow, and appeared to invite the beholder to take a last look
of her beauties, ere she shaded the cottage with woodbine, or screened
with leaves the fantastic arms of the oak.  The clouds soon began to form
over their heads, and a waving column lightly touched their hats.  Around
was one continued range of mountains, with DINAS rising above the river.
Immediately below, lay a beautifully-diversified vale, with the
Dee,—Milton’s ‘Wizard Stream,’—combining all the charms of the Arno and
the Loire, winding through the middle of it: while on the east side of
the mountain several villages seemed to rest in calm repose.  This
beautiful scene was soon converted into a sublime one.  For the clouds
assuming a more gloomy character, the tops of all the mountains around
became totally enveloped; and our heads were now and then encircled with
a heavy vapour.  A more perfect union of the beautiful and magnificent it
were difficult to conceive.  No object was discernible above; but below,
how captivating!  Their feet were illumined by the sun, their heads, as
it were, touching the clouds.  Above, all was gloomy and dark; below, the
sun, from the west, still illumined the villages and spires, the cottages
and woods, the pastures and fields, which lay scattered in every
direction; while the Dee, at intervals, swept, in many a graceful curve,
along the bottom of the vale.  These objects, so variously blended, and
so admirably contrasted with the sombre scene above them, called to the
imagination the golden thoughts of Ariosto; and inspired such a
combination of feelings, that, for a time, they were absorbed in silent
meditation.  While they were indulging in this repose, the sounds of
village bells, in honour of a recent marriage, came floating on the
breeze from below.  The sounds, softened by the distance, and coming from
a region so far beneath, lulled them with a choral symphony, that excited
the most delightful sensations.  And such must ever be the effect on
those whose happiness has not been smothered beneath a load of splendid
vacuities; in whom society has not engendered an infinity of wants; in
whom ignorance has not awakened pride, arrogance, and vanity; and in whom
content has the power of lulling every fever of illegitimate desire.”

Having descended this steep eminence, we continued our route to Valle
Crucis Abbey, about two miles distant from Llangollen.  It would be
advisable for strangers first to visit Valle Crucis, and take Dinas Brân
Castle in their way back to their inn.  The transmutations of time are
frequently ridiculous: the long aisles of this monastery, which were once
only responsive to the slow-breathed chant, now repeat the rude
dissonance of cows, ducks, and all manner of poultry.  Instead of these
emblems of rusticity, the mind’s eye is more accustomed to appropriate
these antique edifices to the midnight procession of monks issuing from
their cells to perform the solemn service.  These neglected walls are too
deeply shrouded by the melancholy grove of towering ash, contiguously
formed, to be seen to advantage.  An axe, judiciously used, would be of
service to the ruin, as the elegant window of the chapel is completely
concealed by the luxuriant vegetation around; still, however, a pleasing
melancholy pervades the whole scene.  The abbey is beautifully screened
on all sides by woody hills, which entirely protect it from the
inclemency of the winter.

This ancient Cistertian monastery was founded by Madoc ap Griffith
Maelor, in the year 1200, and is sometimes called Llan-Egwiste, or
Llanegwast.  In this vale was the pillar of Eglwyseg: but the country
people appeared quite ignorant of its situation.  Returning to
Llangollen, we pursued the turnpike road to the neat village of



CHIRK.


For some way we followed the straight and formal course of a canal, near
this, communicating with the Pont-y-Cyssyllte; we again paused to survey
this wonderful design.  The vale, on our left, was indescribably
beautiful; and over the whole was diffused the purple glow of the
evening.  The prospect was composed of the miniature parts of the immense
landscape we had viewed from Dinas Brân Hill, each of which we now
contemplated separately as a scene.  The moon’s chequered gleam
besilvered the walls of Chirk Castle, just as we entered the Hand Inn,
where, after the fatigues of a long walk, we met with excellent
accommodation, when considered as a village.

After breakfast the next morning we endeavoured to obtain admission to
see the inside of Chirk Castle, but without success; though now only
inhabited by servants, who were peremptorily commanded to admit no
strangers.  It is situated on an eminence, surrounded by a park and fine
plantations, which are very judiciously laid out.  This elegant mansion
has been in the possession of the Middleton family ever since the year
1614.  Having gratified ourselves with a survey of this noble park, we
returned to the Oswestry road.  Leaving the village of Chirk, we crossed
a new bridge of one arch, elegantly constructed.  Near it is another
aqueduct, of considerable extent, now erecting over this river and
valley, which though very inferior to the Pont-y-Cyssyllte, is still a
great undertaking; it is several hundred yards in length, and the brick
piers rise fifty or sixty feet above the level of the water.  Near this
is a rich coal mine, lately discovered.

From hence to Oswestry we traversed a rich enclosed country, and enjoyed
a scene particularly pleasing: all the inhabitants were collected, to
gather in the produce of the ripened field; and

    “Through their cheerful band the rural talk,
    The rural scandal, and the rural jest,
    Fled harmless.”

To the traveller and the poet such scenes afford an ample field for
amusement; but waving corn is ill adapted to the canvass of the painter.
About two miles from Oswestry, we passed through the little town of



WHITTINGTON.


At this place was fought the battle between Oswald, the Christian king of
the Northumbrians, and Penda, the Pagan king of the Mercians, in which
the former lost his life.  An easy walk soon brought us to



OSWESTRY.


Its only relics now remaining are the ruins of a chapel, built over a
remarkably fine spring of water; to this was formerly attributed the cure
of various diseases, incident both to man and beast; and though its
miracles have long ceased, yet it still bears the name of the saint.  The
remains of the castle, supposed to have been built at the time of the
Conquest, are now almost too trivial to be noticed.  This town was
garrisoned by the king, in the beginning of the civil wars, but captured
in June, 1644, by the Earl of Denbigh and General Mytton.

In passing through the town of Oswestry we noticed the church, as being a
very neat building; but, either from our own neglect, or imagining it not
to be ancient, we did not inspect the interior.  Oswestry suffered
greatly by fire in the year 1542, and likewise in 1567.

“The chirch of St. Oswalde,” says Leland, “is a very faire leddid chirch,
with a great tourrid steple, but it standeth without the new gate; so
that no chirch is there withyn the towne.  This chirch was sum time a
monasterie, caullid the _White Minster_.  After turnid to a paroche
chirch, and the personage impropriate to the abbey of Shreusbyri.  The
cloister stoode in hominum memoria ubi monumenta monachorum.  The place
and streate wer the chirch standithe is called Stretllan.”  From this
place to



LLANYMYNACH,


situate on the north bank of the Evyrnwy, a continuation of the rich
enclosed country, showing to advantage the agriculture of these parts,
attended us till we reached the foot of the hill of Llanymynach.  From
the summit of this we enjoyed a most beautiful and boundless prospect,
commanding the whole dome of the sky.  All individual dignity was
overpowered by the immensity of the whole view, which consisted more
particularly of the rivers Virnwy and Tannad, joining their waters with
the Severn; the lofty waterfall of Pystyll Rhaiadr—the Breddin Hills—and
the Ferwyn Mountains.  The geological observations on Llanymynach Hill,
by Mr. Aikin, are so accurate, that to attempt any further description
would be deemed highly presumptuous in me; I shall therefore avail myself
of an account so ably delineated.

“The hill of Llanymynach is not only remarkable for the fine prospect
from its top, it is still more worthy notice, as containing by far the
most extensive lime works of any in this part of the country.  The lime
of Llanymynach rock is in high request as a manure, and is sent by
land-carriage as far as Montgomery, New-town, and even Llanidloes: it
sells at the kilns for sevenpence a bushel; and from thirty to thirty-six
bushels are reckoned a waggon load; the coal with which it is burnt, is
brought partly from the neighbourhood of Oswestry, and partly from Sir
Watkin Williams Wynne’s pits, near Ruabon.  The lime lies in strata,
parallel to the horizon, varying in thickness from three inches to five
feet; it is of an extraordinary hardness, with but little calcareous
spar, and few shells, or rather marine exuvial; its colour reddish brown,
burning to almost white.  Between the strata of lime we found a very
tenacious smooth clay, orange-colour ochre, and green plumose carbonate
of copper, or malachite.  It was in search of this copper that the Romans
carried on here such extensive works, of which the remains are still very
visible: they consist of a range of from twenty to thirty shallow pits,
the heaps of rubbish from the mouths of which abound with small pieces of
copper ore, and a cave of considerable dimensions, terminating in an
irregular winding passage of unknown length, connected with which are two
air-shafts still remaining open, and the appearances of several others
now filled up: in some of these caverns are found large and beautiful
specimens of stalactite.  One of the levels was explored some years ago,
and in it was discovered a skeleton, with mining tools, and some Roman
copper coins.  The whole mass of the hill seems more or less impregnated
with copper: wherever the surface is uncovered, there are evident marks
of the presence of this metal, and the stones composing the rampart of
Offa’s Dyke, which encompasses two sides of the hill, are in many parts
covered with cupreus efflorescences.  Between the village and the rock
passes a branch of the Ellesmere canal, which, when navigable, will add
much to the value of these works, by rendering them more accessible to
the surrounding country, and may induce some spirited adventurer to
re-commence a search after copper, which, it is evident, was formerly
prosecuted with considerable success.”

This description of Llanymynach Hill we pronounce, from our own
observation, to be very accurate, so that the length of the quotation
will be readily excused.  Leaving the pretty village of Llanymynach,
situated on the banks of the Virnwy, we resumed our journey to Welsh
Pool.  The face of the country was pleasing; and we soon reached the
Breddin Hills, on whose summit a column is erected to commemorate the
victory of Admiral Lord Rodney over the French, in the year 1782.  Not
far from hence we passed a handsome aqueduct, admirably constructed over
the river Virnwy, of great strength and stability.  The vale of the
Severn affords much picturesque scenery, and we at length arrived at



WELSH POOL QUAY,


about three miles from that place.  Several vessels were lying here,
which carry on a constant traffic with Worcester, and the towns situated
on the banks of this noble river.  Before our entrée into Pool, Powis
Castle appeared on an eminence, immediately rising behind the town, and
beautifully backed by a large plantation of trees.

Welsh Pool derives its name from a black pool in its neighbourhood, (its
Welsh appellation signifying a quagmire or pool), and is one of the five
boroughs in Montgomeryshire, which jointly send a member to Parliament.
The town is by no means neat: it stands on a low hill, and consists of
one principal street, in which are situated the new county-hall and
market-places.  The Severn is navigable within three quarters of a mile
of this town, which is computed at not less than two hundred miles from
its junction with the British channel.  It is the great market for the
Welsh flannel, called gwart, or webb, prepared in many parts of
Merionethshire, and generally used for soldiers’ clothes.  This trade,
however, has of late been very inconsiderable.

Powis Castle (anciently called Poole Castle) the seat of Lord Clive, lies
to the right, about one mile from Pool, on the ridge of a rock, retaining
a mixture of castle and mansion.  Here Lucien Buonaparte lived several
years.  It is built of red stone, and originally contained within its
walls two castles: the entrance is between two round towers.  There are
several family portraits in a long gallery, measuring one hundred and
seventeen feet by twenty.  The gardens still retain that stiff formality
so much in vogue many years ago; but the curious water-works, in
imitation of the wretched taste of St. Germains-en-Laye, are now
destroyed.  The prospect from the castle is very extensive, comprehending
a view of Welsh Poole, Vale, and Freiddin Hills.  From hence to



MONTGOMERY,


the Ellesmere canal accompanied us part of the way; and at length, after
a fatiguing walk, we reached the Green Dragon, a small and comfortable
inn.  The site of Montgomery is very pleasing, on a gentle ascent, and
backed by a steep hill, beautifully clothed with the rich plantations
belonging to Lord Powis.  The town itself is a straggling place, and has
little to recommend it.  The remains of the castle are now too trifling
to interest the passing traveller.

In the year 1094, this castle was gallantly defended by the Normans; but
the Welsh, at last, finding means to undermine the walls, took it by
storm; and after putting the garrison to the sword, levelled it to the
ground.  It was rebuilt by King Henry III., in the year 1221, as a check
to the incursions of the Welsh; but a second time razed to the ground by
Llewelyn the Great, Prince of Wales.  It afterwards became the seat of
the ancestors of the Lord Herbert of Cherbury, who was born here, and
continued in possession of his descendants, till reduced to its present
ruinous condition by the civil wars.

The road to



BISHOP’S CASTLE


brought us through a very rich country; and, on ascending a hill, about
five miles from Montgomery, a retrospect of the far-distant mountainous
country of Wales, to which we were now bidding a last adieu, irresistibly
brought on a train of serious reflections.  In a retrospect like this,
where the subject and the scene must inspire serious thoughts, such
traces are not unpleasing; they tend to promote one general effect—the
love of contemplation.  We enumerated the little incidents which had
taken place, indulging reflections on scenes for ever past:—we erected on
the spot which we esteemed most adapted to retirement, the visionary
cottage: our schemes were instantly arranged: fancy fashioned its
ornaments, adapted its appendages,—and fancy will ever exceed realities.
But all our air-built plans of future happiness soon vanished: and, alas!
when

    . . . “fancy scatters roses all around,
    What blissful visions rise!  In prospect bright
    Awhile they charm the soul; but scarce attain’d,
    The gay delusion fades.  Another comes;
    The soft enchantment is again renew’d,
    And youth again enjoys the airy dreams
    Of fancied good.”

Bishop’s Castle is situated in a bottom.  We found it a more extensive
place than we expected; but being shortly convinced that there was
nothing particular to require a long stay, and having recruited ourselves
at the Castle Inn, we hastened to leave the town.  The road, for the
first seven miles, continually dipped into shallow valleys, well wooded,
affording cursory views, with many a substantial farmer’s habitation
lurking amongst the trees.  At length a rich and noble vale, with
extensive woods on our right, animated with several gentlemen’s seats,
and watered by an overflowing stream running immediately close to the
road accompanied us to



LUDLOW,


situated on an eminence in the midst of this most luxuriant country.
After the many indifferent Welsh towns which we had passed through since
the commencement of our pedestrian excursion, we felt ourselves not a
little chagrined at our uncouth appearance on entering so gay a place.
The streets are commodious, and the houses and public buildings extremely
neat.  The gravel walks round the castle are extensive, and command, at
occasional points, distinct prospects of the gentlemen’s seats in the
neighbourhood, with their grounds and noble plantations.  The river Teme
gives additional beauty to this fascinating spot: the new bridge recently
erected, a little below the castle, forms likewise, from this spot, by no
means an uninteresting object; add to this, at suitable distances, the
river, by means of dams, is formed into small artificial cascades.  At
the extremity of the town is another bridge, separating the counties of
Shropshire and Hereford.  These walks were laid out in the year 1772, by
the Countess of Powis, at a great expense.  The overshadowing trees not
only afford refreshing shelter from a summer’s sun, but are likewise a
protection from the piercing winter’s wind: indeed,

    . . . “I could rove
    At morn, at noon, at eve, by lunar ray,
    In each returning season, through your shade,
    Ye rev’rend woods; could visit every dell,
    Each hill, each breezy lawn, each wand’ring brook,
    And bid the world admire; each magic spot again
    Could seek, and tell again of all its charms.”

Towards the north, the mazy course of the Teme,—Oakley Park, the elegant
seat of the Dowager Lady Clive,—the Clee Hills,—the celebrated Caer
Caradoc, with the other eminences near Stretton, terminating the view,
present a most pleasing landscape.  Towards the west, a combination of
rock, wood, and water, gratifies the warmest wish of fancy.

The Whitecliff, opposite to the castle, and Hackluyt’s Close, near the
Leominster road, are the two other most favourite walks; but that round
the castle is resorted to as the most fashionable promenade.  The town of
Ludlow has been calculated to contain seven hundred and two houses, and
nearly three thousand five hundred and sixty-five persons. {299}  The
public buildings are the market-house, the guildhall, the prison (called
Gaolford’s tower), and the cross.  The rooms over the latter are
dedicated for the instruction of thirty poor boys, and fifteen poor
girls; and the former at a proper age are apprenticed out.  The town
enjoys no particular manufactory, but its chief trade consists in the
article of gloves.

The castle, the palace of the Prince of Wales in right of his
principality, is now entirely in ruins, except Mortimer’s Tower, which
was repaired by Sir Henry Sidney, during his presidency.  It is now
inhabited by an old servant of Lord Powis’s, a very civil and intelligent
man, who related with the utmost concern the sad vicissitudes this castle
had experienced: he insisted on our entering the tower of his habitation,
and ascending the crumbling stairs, for a full display of the various
beauties in the vicinity of Ludlow.  He expatiated much on a valuable
diamond ring, which he had discovered himself when attempting to drain a
cellar; the inscription of Hebrew characters round the gold within the
ring was interpreted by the learned, “a good heart;” this, and several
coins of silver and gold, which were found at the same time, are now in
the possession of Lord Powis: near the same spot a number of skeletons
were likewise dug up.  He next conducted us to a small room in this
tower, to observe an old stone placed over the fire-place, with a cross,
the letters W. S. and the date 1575, engraven on it.

Over the south-east gateway, leading into the interior of the castle, are
the arms of Elizabeth, Queen of England; and beneath, those of the Sydney
family, with the following inscription:

                         HOMINIBUS INGRATIS LOQUIMINI
                          LAPIDES.—ANN. REGNI REGINÆ
                          ELIZABETHÆ 23.—THE 28 YEAR
                           COPLET OF THE RESIDENCE
                          OF SIR HENRY SYDNEY KNIGHT
                        OF THE MOST NOBLE ORDER OF THE
                                GARTER, 1581.

This castle, founded by Roger de Montgomery, on a rock, in the north-east
angle of the town, supposed to be in the year 1112, was considerably
enlarged by Sir Henry Sydney.  Its ancient British name, Dinan Llys
Tywysog, signifies the Prince’s Palace.  The vicissitudes of war have
frequently been exemplified in this castle; it has had its lords and its
princes; it has been plundered, captured, dismantled, and repaired, in
those periods of civil warfare, which this unfortunate country in former
times continually experienced.  Philips, in the History and Antiquities
of Shrewsbury, during those melancholy troubles, gives some account of
this castle.  Some historians affirm that King Edward V. and his brother
were born in Ludlow Castle; but others, not crediting this assertion,
attribute their birth-place to Wigmore; certain, however, it is, that
during their minority they here held their court, under the tuition of
Lord Anthony Woodville and Lord Scales, till they were removed to London,
and soon after smothered in the Tower by the command of their cruel and
ambitious uncle, the Duke of Gloucester.  Here, likewise, Prince Arthur,
the eldest son of King Henry VII., celebrated his marriage with the
virtuous Catherine of Arragon; and in the year 1502 he here paid the debt
of nature, and was buried in the cathedral church of Worcester.

The account of the representation at Ludlow of Milton’s celebrated mask
of Comus, is thus mentioned in the life of that poet, prefixed to
Newton’s edition:—“It was in the year 1634 that this mask was presented
at Ludlow Castle.  There was formerly a president of Wales, and a sort of
a court kept at Ludlow, which has since been abolished; and the president
at that time was the Earl of Bridgewater, before whom Milton’s mask was
presented on Michaelmas night; and the principal parts, those of the two
brothers, were performed by his lordship’s sons, the Lord Brackly and Mr.
Thomas Egerton; and that of the lady, by his lordship’s daughter, the
Lady Alice Egerton.”

In the first year of William and Mary the presidency was dissolved by Act
of Parliament, “being a great grievance to the subject, and a means to
introduce an arbitrary power, especially in the late reign, when a new
convert family were at the head of it.”

The church next demanded our attention, the only one belonging to this
town.  The time of the foundation of this ancient and elegant structure
cannot now be strictly ascertained: it is situated on an eminence, in the
centre of the town.  The square tower is lofty, and of very light
architecture, but the upper part suffered much from the all-destroying
hand of Oliver Cromwell.  The highly-finished statues round the
battlements are much mutilated, and many entirely destroyed.  On entering
the church, six light Gothic fluted arches on each side, with four
similar ones of larger dimensions, supporting the tower, are strikingly
grand.  Under the organ-loft we passed into the chancel, now only made
use of for the administration of the sacrament.  This is a most elegant
building, with thirteen stalls on each side, similar, in style, to the
generality of cathedrals.  The seats of the stalls, all of which turn
back, exhibit specimens of curious workmanship, with strange devices and
ridiculous conceits.  Some of the glass painted windows are still in good
preservation: the large one over the altar-piece represents the history
of St. Lawrence, to whom this church is dedicated, in fifty-four
compartments.  The other windows of the chancel are much mutilated,
collected from different parts of the church, and several panes broken by
the unmeaning idleness of boys, regardless of these valuable relics of
antiquity.—In the side of the wall, near the altar, are two stone stalls,
with a piscina opposite.

In this chancel is a handsome monument, erected to the memory of Robert
Townsend and his wife, with several figures of their sons and daughters
carved round the bottom; over them are the arms of their family and
connexions; it bears the date of 1581: a modern monument to Theophilus
Solway, Esq.  An ancient one to Ambrosia Sydney, who died at Ludlow
Castle.  This lady was daughter to Sir Henry Sydney, who attained the
important situation of the presidency of Wales in the year 1564.  He died
at Bewdley in 1584, and left this singular injunction to his executors:
“That his heart should be buried at Shrewsbury, his bowels at Bewdley,
and his body at Ludlow, in the tomb of his favourite daughter Ambrosia.”
This order was punctually executed; and the leaden urn, containing his
heart, was six inches deep, and five inches in diameter at the top, with
this inscription carved three times round it:

“Her lith the Harte of Syr Henrye Sydney, L. P. _anno Domini_, 1586.”
For an engraving of this urn, taken from a drawing of Mr. S. Nicholas,
see the Gentleman’s Magazine for September, 1794.  Another monument to
Edward Weston and his wife, kneeling opposite to each other.

In this church is likewise buried Sir John Bridgeman, the last president
but one of Ludlow Castle.  He was extremely rigid in his office; and one
Ralph Gittins, who had probably experienced his severity, composed the
following epitaph on him:

    “Here lies Sir John Bridgeman, clad in his clay:
    God said to the Devil, Sirrah, take him away.”

Should the tourist find time to make any stay at Ludlow, several
excursions in the neighbourhood will prove highly gratifying.  Oakley
Park, the elegant seat of the Dowager Lady Clive, claims the greatest
attention; it is situated about two miles from Ludlow, on the banks of
the Teme River: just beyond this, a seat of — Walpole, Esq.  About five
miles distant is Downton Castle, the noble mansion and fine walks of
Richard Payne Knight, Esq. one of the representatives in Parliament for
the borough of Ludlow.  Being necessitated to leave this charming country
by a particular day, we had no opportunity of visiting these celebrated
and much-admired houses.

With regret we left the delightful situation of Ludlow; and, crossing
Lawford’s bridge, we ascended an eminence along a beautiful terrace,
commanding a most charming and pleasant country to our left, with the
fertile county of Hereford, abounding with orchards, which were all
bending with the produce of the year.  About two miles from Ludlow, on
the right, we paused to admire the delightful seat of Theophilus Richard
Solway, Esq. situated on an eminence, and skirted by a rich plantation of
wood towards the west: it is called the Lodge.  Descending into a bottom,
a rich country, studded with farm-houses, soon brought us to the town of



LEOMINSTER,


or Leminster, consisting of one long street.  The market-place in the
centre, bearing a very old date, and likewise the church, are both
deserving of the traveller’s notice.  It is situated in a flat, and the
country round it is not particularly interesting.  From hence a turnpike
road, showing to advantage the rich culture of the country, soon brought
us within sight of the venerable cathedral of



HEREFORD,


backed by a sloping eminence just rising behind, and beautifully clothed
with wood.  Being under a particular engagement to meet a party at Ross,
to accompany us down the Wye the following day, time would not allow us
to investigate this respectable city so minutely as it deserves.  Our
observations, therefore, were so cursory, that the Hereford Guide must
supply the deficiencies in this part of our journal; this neglect the
tourist must attribute to our delay at the engaging town of Ludlow.

At Hereford we for some time hesitated respecting the hire of a boat to
convey us to Ross; but the exorbitant demand of the boatmen soon
determined us to pursue the turnpike road, and follow as near as possible
the course of the Wye.  The orchards were overcharged with “bending
fruit,” and seemed to prognosticate a more favourable cider season than
has of late been experienced.  The retrospect of the city, with its
ancient cathedral, formed a most attracting view; and about three miles a
most lovely vale, bounded by the hills of South Wales, arrested our
attention.  A continuation of the same scenery of orchards, in which
Herefordshire so peculiarly abounds, with the road continually dipping
into shallow valleys, attended us within five miles of Ross; when,
ascending a steep hill, a view of that town, or, rather, of its
far-conspicuous spire, broke in upon the reposing character of the scene.
This presently conducted us to Wilton bridge, thrown over the Wye; and,
leaving the castle to the left, we ascended the town of



ROSS,


to the inn, so celebrated as the original habitation of Mr. Kyrle; more
generally known by the name of the Man of Ross.  The landlord seems
rather to depend upon the custom of strangers, and from this circumstance
the inn offers indifferent accommodations.  On the bridge we paused a
short time to take a view of the meandering Vaga, which here considerably
widens.  Several pleasure-boats, of various constructions, were riding at
anchor, and united to enliven the watery scene; whilst its smooth
tranquil surface reflected and reverted every object situated on the
banks.

The life and character of Mr. Kyrle has too often been insisted on, and
too frequently celebrated in verse, to be again repeated, unless to
“point out its moral to the heart;” teaching us that self-approbation can
confer an inward happiness superior to all worldly applause; for,

    “What nothing earthly gives, or can destroy;
    The soul’s calm sunshine, and the heart-felt joy,
    Is virtue’s prize.”

Such a bustle pervaded the whole town, of parties assembling here for an
aquatic expedition to Monmouth the following day, that with difficulty we
obtained a small room.  From this circumstance it would be advisable for
parties to secure themselves accommodations, during the summer months, a
considerable time beforehand; such is the continued assemblage of parties
forming for the Wye.  A boat likewise should be hired, and by mentioning
the number of your party, the landlord will be a proper judge respecting
the size.  Strangers may pass with pleasure the greatest part of a day in
surveying the views in the vicinity of Ross; views which must gratify the
most superficial observer, but more particularly from the churchyard.  A
walk may be preferred through the latter place to the Prospect, so called
from the profuse variety of objects in the beautiful and the sublime,
which are presented from this spot.  The sudden bursts of such a
collection of beauties the eye, indeed, cannot contain without
gratification.  The river below bends itself in the whimsical and
fantastical shape of a horse-shoe; this singular wind of the river—the
ruins of Wilton Castle—the luxuriant counties of Hereford and Monmouth,
and the beautiful Chase Woods, all combine to promote one peculiarly
grand and striking effect.  To enter into a minute description of objects
so various and extensive, is impossible: in fine, to delineate the
beauties of the Vaga, with all its accompaniments, would be enumerating
every object that is interesting in nature.  Having sufficiently
contemplated the view from the Prospect, a ramble through the meadows
will next prove highly pleasing.

The situation of Ross, though exceedingly beautiful, has nothing in
itself to detain attention: the streets are narrow, dirty, and
inconvenient.  The castle of Wilton, situated on the banks of the Wye,
was founded in the reign of King Henry the First: it was formerly a
nunnery, from whence the Greys de Wilton derive their title.

Early in the morning we congratulated each other on the favourable state
of the weather, and with good spirits provided all the necessaries
requisite for our water expedition; the enjoyment of which depends much
upon the season.  The hire of the boat to Monmouth by water is one pound
eleven shillings and sixpence, not including ten shillings for provisions
for the men, who likewise expect an additional small sum, after the
fatigues of the day.  The boat, navigated by three men, will contain ten
or twelve people without any inconvenience, and is properly protected by
an awning from the heat of the sun.  The distance from Ross to Chepstow,
by water, is more than forty miles, which strangers occasionally
accomplish in one day: but this hurrying method will not allow them an
opportunity of inspecting, with proper attention, the various objects
which deserve to be noticed; and they cannot possibly find time to leave
their boat, and climb the rugged steep banks of the Wye in search of
views, which, though visited by the discerning few, yet merit the regard
of every amateur of nature’s landscapes.  And here it may not be improper
to mention, that the boatmen too frequently suffer these most interesting
spots to be passed unnoticed by strangers, merely from laziness, or to
avoid the delay of a few minutes.  Gilpin, in his excellent treatise,
Observations on the River Wye, thus analyzes, in the second section, the
beauties of the “echoing Vaga,” and divides its constituent parts
into—the steepness of its banks, its mazy course, the ground, woods, and
rocks, which are its native ornaments, and, lastly, the buildings.  To
this he might with propriety have added its echoes, the variety of views
from its banks, the fishing coracles, which are continually on the river;
for all these contribute to form one pleasing and interesting effect.

We embarked on board our boat a little below the town; and the first
object which drew our attention was the ivy-mantled walls of Wilton
Castle.  The annual growth of the few trees which encircle it will in
time render it a more picturesque object; it is at present so
sufficiently seen from the water as not to require the stranger to
disembark for farther inspection.  A few yards below we passed under
Wilton Bridge, an elegant structure of several arches.  From hence, for
four or five miles, the banks are tame and uninteresting, and so high
above the river as to prevent a prospect of the adjacent country; but a
group of cattle, some ruminating on the brink, some browzing on the
ashlings which overhung the stream, and others

    —“From their sides,
    The troublous insects lashing with their tails,
    Returning still,”

formed a “rural confusion.”  The velocity of the stream shortly brought
us to that noble scenery, about four miles from Ross, which so eminently
distinguishes and constitutes the beauty of the Wye: before us the noble
remains of Goodrich Castle, cresting a steep eminence, enveloped with
trees, presented themselves; behind, the thick foliage of Chase Woods
closed the picture.  The happiest gradation of tints, and the liveliest
blending of colours were here conspicuous.  On the right hand we landed
on the shore, in order to make a minute investigation of the castle: it
is certainly a grand ruin, and stands on an eminence, naturally so steep
as to render it in former times capable of some resistance against a
formidable enemy.  On our first entrance into the ruin we naturally
indulged reflections on past scenes, contemplated the traces of ancient
splendor; and, connecting what remains with what is destroyed, we
pondered on the vanity of human art and the ravages of time, which
exhibit in this ruin their completest triumph.  The warrior who strove to
preserve its original grandeur against the attacks of Cromwell is buried
in Walford Church, situated on the opposite side of the river, and seen
from the castle.  The different parts of the building bear evident marks
of its having been erected at various times: from a seat in the
castle-yard is the most advantageous spot for surveying, in one view, the
whole of this ruin: {310} an octagon pillar of light and elegant
workmanship, is seen to great advantage through the gateway, and adds
considerably to the magnificence of this ancient pile: it now belongs to
Dr. Griffin, of Hadnock, the lord of the manor.

To return to our boat, we took a different and more circuitous route, for
the purpose of inspecting the remains of Goodrich Priory, now converted
into a farm.  The chapel has experienced the same vicissitude; and those
walls, which formerly re-echoed with the chanting of voices and the
solemn peal, now repeat the continued strokes of the flail.  In many
parts of the walls the initials of names of persons who have long since
paid the debt of nature, and left behind no other memorial, are carved
with characteristic rudeness, showing to every passing stranger the
prevalency of that universal passion—the love of fame.  The Gothic
windows, and the cross erected on each end of the building, show evident
marks of its former purpose.  The boat usually meets the passengers at
another reach of the river; but it is a plan by no means to be
recommended; since by missing a circuit round the castle, its different
tints and variety of attitudes, occasioned by one of the boldest sweeps
of the Wye, are entirely lost.  A short time after we had taken our last
retrospect of Goodrich Castle, the spire of Ruredean Church {311}
appeared in front, just peeping from among the woody skirts of the forest
of Dean; a little below Courtfield House, belonging to Mr. Vaughan, was
seen in a very picturesque point of view, with the ruins of the chapel,
forming the back-ground.  In Courtfield House, tradition reports, the
warlike King Henry the Fifth was nursed; and in the church of Welsh
Bicknor, situated to the right in a noble amphitheatre enclosed with
rocks, first embraced the Christian religion.

A busy scene of craft loading and unloading, and coals shipping for
various parts from the quay at Lidbrook, presents a picture of cheerful
activity, and forms a pleasing contrast to the quiet, rich, and retired
spots we had left behind us: such spots as were well adapted to form the
mind of Britain’s glory—the virtuous Henry.  The banks now became richly
clothed with wood, from the summits of the highest rocks to the water’s
edge; and a hill in front, called Rosemary Topping, from the mellow
luxuriance of its sides, closed the prospect.  Almost every sweep
presents a new object to strike the admiration of the spectator; the
transitions are sudden, but never so harsh as to disgust.  Even the
contrast between the embellishments of art we had just left, and the wild
rocks which here exhibit nature in her most striking attitudes, gave an
additional impression to each other.

We now reached the fine mass of rocks called Coldwell, one of which,
Symond’s Yacht to the left, it is customary for company to ascend, in
order to view the mazy and circuitous course of the river, and the
extensive prospect around.  The forest of Dean, the counties of Monmouth,
Hereford, and Gloucester, were extended before us, studded with villages,
diversified with clusters of half-visible farm-houses; with many a grey
steeple, “embosomed high in tufted trees.”  In painting the several views
from this summit the happiest description would fail; the impression can
only be conveyed by the eye.  The river here makes a most extraordinary
winding round the promontory; and having completed a circuit of more than
five miles, flows a second time immediately under Symond’s Yatch. {312}
The whole of this mazy course may be traced from this eminence.  From
hence we discovered a very remarkable polysyllabical articulate echo, and
we reckoned twelve distinct reverberations from the explosion of a gun
fired on this spot.  It is here again customary for the boatmen to impose
on strangers, and if they can prevail on them, during their walk to
Symond’s Yacht, will take the boat round the circuit of five miles, and
meet them at New Weir, in order that no time should be lost; but this
laziness we by no means encouraged; and the whole course of this
extraordinary and romantic sweep proved highly gratifying.  Goodrich
Spire, which we again wound round, presented itself: huge fragments of
massy rocks which have rolled down from the precipices opposite Manuck
Farm, here almost choked up the course of the stream.  The changing
attitudes and various hues of Symond’s Yacht, lifting its almost spiral
head high above the other rocks, as we receded and drew near it, supplied
a combination of tints surprisingly gay and beautiful; and having
accomplished a sweep of five miles, we reached, within a quarter of a
mile, the spot where we began our ascent to this steep eminence.

The view of New Weir next unfolded itself; but a disagreeable scene here
generally occurs, and interrupts the pleasure of contemplation: a large
assemblage of beggars, men, women, and children, on the banks,
bare-footed and scarcely a rag to cover them, followed our boat,
imploring charity; and several almost throwing themselves into the water,
to catch your money, which every now and then the bigger seize from the
less.

But I have omitted to mention, that before we reached the New Weir, the
spire of Haunton on Wye, cresting a hill at the extremity of a long
reach, and a fantastic barren rock, jutting out from the green foliage
which encircles it, presenting itself bold and conspicuous, formed
prominent and interesting features in the landscape; this is called
Bearcroft, receiving its appellation from the very respectable and
learned counsellor of that name.  Several rocks, indeed, particularly in
this part of the river, are named by the counsel, who have long made it a
practice of exploring the rich and bold scenery of the Wye on their
assize circuit.  Gilpin, considering New Weir as the second grand scene
on the Wye, thus describes it:

“The river is wider than usual in this part, and takes a sweep round a
towering promontory of rock, which forms the side screen on the left, and
is the grand feature of the view.  On the right side of the river the
bank forms a woody amphitheatre, following the course of the stream round
the promontory: its lower skirts are adorned with a hamlet, in the midst
of which volumes of thick smoke thrown up at intervals from an iron
forge, as its fires receive fresh fuel, add double grandeur to the scene.
But what peculiarly marks this view is a circumstance on the water: the
whole river at this place makes a precipitate fall, of no great height,
indeed, but enough to merit the name of a cascade, though to the eye
above the stream it is an object of no consequence.  In all the scenes we
had yet passed, the water moving with a slow and solemn pace, the objects
around kept time, as it were, with it; and every steep and every rock
which hung over the river was solemn, tranquil, and majestic.  But here
the violence of the stream and the roaring of the waters impressed a new
character on the scene: all was agitation and uproar; and every steep and
every rock stared with wildness and terror.”—The accuracy and elegance of
this description, drawn by so masterly a pen, I hope will amply
compensate for the length of this quotation.  The extensive iron works
mentioned in this passage belong to Mr. Partridge.

Below the New Weir a continuation of the same rich scenery still arrested
our attention, and rocks and wood seemed to contend which should be most
conspicuous; till the winding of the river round Doward’s Rock, on which
was formerly a Roman station, brought us under the house of Mr. Hatley,
which commands a view of the river as far as Monmouth, when it is
terminated by the town and bridge of six arches.  As we drew near



MONMOUTH,


the house of Dr. Griffin, situated on an eminence, and a banqueting-room
erected by the inhabitants of the place, appeared above the town on the
left.

The town of Monmouth lies too low to form a grand appearance from the
water, but is, in itself, neat and well-built, and pleasantly situated on
the banks of the Wye.  As we repaired to our inn, we were both
involuntarily led to take a retrospect of the past amusements of the day.
The partial gleams of sunshine had given additional tints to the rich and
bold scenery, and every thing had conspired to render it a most
interesting aquatic excursion.  The variety of scenes which Claude would
have selected, had he now existed, for his canvass; with rapture, too,
would he have caught the tints, and with the happiest effect combined the
objects into a picture; kept up our attention, and removed that sameness
which too often accompanies water excursions.  Such has been the pleasure
of our first day’s water expedition; and from the impression it made on
us we eagerly looked forward to some future period when we may again
retrace views which memory will ever hold dear, and the pleasure be then
redoubled with the remembrance of past occurrences.

Opposite the Beaufort Arms, the most convenient inn in the town, is the
town-house, handsomely built, with a full-length statue on the outside,
facing the street, with this inscription under it: “Henry the Fifth, born
at Monmouth, August the ninth, 1387.”  On the birth of this warlike and
virtuous prince, the charter was granted to the town of Monmouth; it is
governed by a mayor, two bailiffs, fifteen aldermen, nine constables, two
serjeants, and two beadles.  The castle now bears few vestiges of its
former grandeur; and of the regal dome scarcely a wreck has escaped,
through the long lapse of years, and the ravages of time: where a mighty
king once gave audience, and where vassals knelt, now assemble the
animate appendages of a farm-yard.

Near the castle is a very antiquated house, now converted into a school,
the property of the Duke of Beaufort.  To this town Wihenoc de Monemue,
or Monmouth, in the reign of Henry the First, brought over a convent of
Black Monks from St. Florence, and placed them first in the church of St.
Cadoc near the castle, and after in the church of St. Mary.  It was among
other ancient priories seized by the crown during the wars with France,
but was restored again, made denison, and continued till the general
suppression in the reign of King Henry the Eighth. {317}  From hence we
walked to the church-yard; close to which is the room where Geoffery of
Monmouth composed his well-known history: this is now a day-school.
Monmouth has likewise to boast of a free-school founded here from the
following curious circumstance; Mr. Jones, a native of Newland, being in
distress, left this parish, and went to London, where he engaged himself
as servant to a Hamburgh merchant, and proving trusty in his office, he
was by degrees advanced, till at length he attained a fortune of his own.
Willing to prove how far the charity of his native place would extend
towards him, in disguise he applied for that relief which he was enabled
to show towards others; but his parish taking no notice of him, referred
him to Monmouth, and would not redress his pretended complaints; the
latter, however, being more charitably disposed, relieved him according
to his wishes.  Having thus proved their generosity, he acquainted them
of his real situation, and promised to repay their kindness by obliging
them in any demand they should request.  On this they solicited the
foundation of a free-school, which he immediately built, liberally
endowed, and which, from that time, has been well supported.  The walk to
the Folly, we were informed, would have afforded us some beautiful and
extensive prospects; the whole of which information we should probably
have found true, but the evening closing, we were very reluctantly
necessitated to return to our inn.

Early in the morning we renewed our survey of Monmouth.  The church first
demanded notice: it is a handsome structure, but the inside offers
nothing remarkable for the inspection of the antiquary.  The gaol, built
after the plan of the benevolent Howard, is situated in a healthy spot;
and in every respect rendered as commodious and comfortable as such a
place will allow for the unfortunate inhabitants.  Monmouth, indeed,
contains several good houses, and the neighbourhood is respectable.  A
bridge at the extremity of the town, with the ancient gateway, bears
every mark of antiquity.

The hire of a boat from Monmouth to Chepstow is on the same plan as from
Ross to Monmouth, the distance being nearly equal.  Nothing now remained
but to recommence our water excursion; and we accordingly embarked a
quarter of a mile below the town, where the river Monnow joins itself
with the Wye; from hence Monnow-mouth, or Monmouth.  The weather still
continued favourable for our schemes: the banks on the left were at first
low, but as we receded from the town, the spire of Monmouth in the
retrospect, with the Kymin Woods rising from a rock of great height on
our left, under which the river meanders, and to our right Pen-y-vall
Hill engaged our attention, and was the bold and rich scenery we enjoyed
on our first re-embarkation.

The same scenery of rock, wood, and water, which so captivated us on the
preceding day, still continued, occasionally diversified by light vessels
skimming by our boat, and increasing in number as we approached nearer
the sea.  The rude hail of the boatmen as they passed, was re-echoed by
the rocks; and the dingy white sails of the vessels, which soon
disappeared round some bold promontory, were particularly picturesque.
Coleman’s Rocks appeared alternately mantled with underwood and pointed
crags; large fragments scattered in the river here divide the counties of
Monmouth and Gloucester.  At Redbrook Hills, the curling smoke issuing
from the iron-works formed a pleasing accompaniment to the scenery, and
the whole exhibited a picture of industrious labour.  These works belong
to Mr. Turner: the wood and meadow-land of Whitebrook Hills were finely
contrasted with the busy scene at Redbrook.  From hence a long reach,
with Fidenham Chase Hill, rising conspicuously in the front, brought us
to the village of



LLANDOGO,


diversified with cottages from the base to the highest summit of the
sloping eminence.  This village is about nine miles from Monmouth, and
arrests particular observation: here vessels of considerable burden were
loading with iron and other commodities for various ports.  The
appearance of the river here changed; the translucent stream, which had
hitherto alternately reflected, as in a mirror, the awful projection of
the rocks, and the soft flowery verdure of its banks, was affected by the
influence of the tide, and rendered turbid and unpleasant to the sight.

A turn of the river soon brought us to the village of



TINTERN,


where we observed the ruins of a mansion, belonging to Mr. Farmer of
Monmouth.  This house appears of an old date, and might probably claim
the attention of the curious antiquary, was he not so wrapt up in
contemplating the venerable abbey, which presents its Gothic pile in
solemn majesty.  This august building, great in ruins, and awfully grand
in appearance, impels the stranger, as it were imperceptibly, to land and
inspect its noble arches, tottering pillars, and highly-finished windows:
the specimens of ancient architecture, which formerly were delicately
wrought by the hand of art, are now finely decked by that of nature.  On
our first entrance our attention was too much engrossed to exchange the
mutual communication of thought; but the care which has been officiously
taken to remove every fragment lying scattered through the immense area
of the fabric, and the smoothness of the shorn grass, which no scythe
should have dared to clip, in a great measure perverts the character of
the scene: these circumstances but ill accord with the mutilated walls of
an ancient ruin, which has braved the pitiless storms of so many
centuries.  In this respect we by no means agreed with Mr. Gilpin, who
thus describes it: “We excuse—perhaps we approve—the neatness that is
introduced within.  It may add to the beauty of the scene—to its novelty
it undoubtedly does.”  But when this disgust was a little abated, we
indulged those reflections which scenes of ancient grandeur naturally
recall.

This beautiful ruin is cruciform, measuring two hundred and thirty feet
in length, and thirty-three in breadth; the transept is one hundred and
sixty feet long. {321}  This Cistertian Abbey was founded by Walter de
Clare, in the year 1131, and dedicated to St. Mary in the reign of King
Henry VIII.  It experienced the same fate with many other monasteries,
and was granted at its dissolution to the Earl of Worcester in the year
1537.

“As the Abbey of Tintern,” says the author of the Beauties, Harmonies,
and Sublimities of Nature, “is the most beautiful and picturesque of all
our Gothic monuments, so is the situation one of the most sequestered and
delightful.  One more abounding in that peculiar kind of scenery, which
excites the mingled sensations of content, religion, and enthusiasm, it
is impossible to behold.  There every arch infuses a solemn energy, as it
were, into inanimate nature: a sublime antiquity breathes mildly into the
heart; and the soul, pure and passionless, appears susceptible of that
state of tranquillity, which is the perfection of every earthly wish.
Never has Colonna wandered among the woods, surrounding this venerable
ruin, standing on the banks of a river, almost as sacred to the
imagination as the spot, where the Cephisus and the Ilyssus mingle their
waters, but he has wished himself a landscape-painter.  He has never sat
upon its broken columns and beheld its mutilated fragments; and its
waving arches and pillars decorated with festoons of ivy; but he has
formed the wish to forsake the world, and resign himself entirely to the
tranquil studies of philosophy.  Is there a man, my Lelius, too rich, too
great, too powerful, for these emotions?  Is there one too ignorant, too
vain, and too presumptuous, to indulge them?  Envy him not!  From him the
pillars of Palmyra would not draw one sigh; the massacre of Glencoe, the
matins of Moscow, or the Sicilian vespers, would elicit no tear.”

As we receded from the banks, Tintern Abbey, with the Gothic fret-work of
the eastern window, seemingly bound together by the treillage of ivy,
appeared in the most pleasing point of view; sloping hills and rich woods
forming a fine back-ground.  As we drew nearer



CHEPSTOW,


some most noble rocks, “Nature’s proud bastions,” opened upon us to the
left, grander than any we had hitherto admired, and which we had
previously determined were inconceivably fine, and surpassed any idea we
had formed of the channel of this romantic river.  To add to the
magnificence of the whole, the setting sun tinged the rocks with the most
resplendent colours, and the dewy freshness of the evening improved the
charm of the scene; the one enchanting the sense, the other refreshing
it.  The lofty Wynd Cliff to the right; and Piercefield, with the curious
projecting rocks, called the Twelve Apostles and Peter’s Thumb, heighten,
to the very extent of beauty, this noble view; gratifying beyond measure
to the admirer of nature.  Another reach brought us in sight of Chepstow
Castle, on a prominent rock, of which it seemed to form a part; noble in
situation, and grand in appearance.  The handsome new bridge, the rocks,
and the scarce visible town, here made a most charming picture: this we
enjoyed exceedingly, but regretted a few more minutes would set us on
shore, and conclude our excursion on the Wye; an excursion, which, the
farther we proceeded the more we were interested; and so much so, as to
determine a renewal of this pleasing tour another summer.  The former
wooden bridge over the Wye at this place was of very singular
construction; the boards forming the flooring were all designedly loose,
but prevented by pegs, fastened at the extremities of them, from being
carried away by the tide, and by that ingenious contrivance they
gradually rose and fell with it.  The tide is here frequently known to
rise to the extraordinary height of seventy feet.

Not having visited the church in consequence of the bad weather at the
commencement of our tour, we determined now to inspect it.  The entrance
through the western door is an elegant specimen of Saxon architecture,
richly wrought, with three arches; in the inside is the monument of Henry
Marten, one of the regicides who presided at the condemnation of King
Charles I., and was confined in the castle twenty years.  It contains
also a cenotaph to the memory of the Marquis of Worcester, and a tomb
dated 1620, to the memory of Mrs. Clayton and her two husbands, who are
both represented as kneeling.  This church originally belonged to the
alien Benedictine priory of Strigule, but was converted at the
Reformation into the parish church of Chepstow.

Admittance to the celebrated walks of Piercefield can only be obtained on
Tuesdays and Fridays.  To survey these with that attention which they
deserve, would occupy several hours; the liveliest description cannot do
justice to the rich and bold scenery, with all its accompaniments; the
eye can alone receive the impression; for,

    “How long soe’er the wand’rer roves, each step
    Shall wake fresh beauties, each short point presents
    A diff’rent picture; new, and yet the same.”

“The winding of the precipice,” says Gilpin, “is the magical secret by
which all these enchanting scenes are produced.”  At one point, both
above and below, as far as the eye can reach, rolls in majestic windings
the river Wye: at another, the Severn, hastening to meet “its sister
river,” is discovered, till at last they are both lost in the Bristol
Channel: at another, these scenes are concealed, and thick woods,
apparently coeval with time itself, and a long range of rock, burst upon
“the wanderer” with irresistible beauty and attraction.  The occasional
recurrence also of the rude beach, overshadowed by some umbrageous tree,
and concealed from the steep precipice below by thick underwood, allow
only glimpses of the surrounding scenery.

                                * * * * *

I have thus brought my tour to a conclusion; a tour, which has been
productive of much amusement, and, I hope, not entirely devoid of
advantage.  It only remains, therefore, for me to add, that the two
friends, having completed a pedestrian circuit of near eight hundred
miles, parted with mutual regret, jointly exclaiming,

    “Cambria, as thy romantic vales we leave,
    And bid farewell to each retiring hill,
    Where fond attention seems to linger still,
    Tracing the broad bright landscape; much we grieve
    That mingled with the toiling crowd, no more
    We may return thy varied views to mark.”




SONNETS.


SONNET I.  TO FRIENDSHIP.


ADDRESSED TO THE COMPANION OF MY TOUR.

   O balmy comfort through this varied maze
   Of life! thou best physician to the breast,
   With deep affliction’s venom’d sting opprest,
   A thousand arts, a thousand winning ways
   Are thine, to smooth the rugged brow of care,
   And mitigate misfortune’s keenest hour:
   Yes, A. . . ., partner of my Cambrian Tour,
   Friend of my heart, how gladly do I share
   Thy confidence; whate’er my part may be
   Hereafter, on this shifting stage of life,
   This busy theatre of jarring strife,
   May health and happiness attend both thee
   And thine!—on One, thy heavenly Guardian, trust,
   Nor doubt protection—all His ways are just.



SONNET II.
THE CONTRAST OF YESTERDAY AND TO-DAY.


SUPPOSED TO BE WRITTEN ON THE SUMMIT OF SNOWDON.

   How gay was yesterday!—no storm was heard
   To mutter round thy steep—yon sun arose
   With golden splendour, and in still repose
   Nature majestic through her works appear’d.
   To-day how changed—loud howls the hollow blast!
   The thin mists undulate! thy towering height
   Is veil’d in tempest and eternal night!
   So ’tis with man! contrasting prospects past
   With dreams of future happiness—to-day
   In gallant trim his little bark may glide
   On the smooth current of the tranquil tide:
   To-morrow comes!—the gathering storms display
   A sad vicissitude—the whirlwind’s sweep
   Grasps at its prey, and whelms it in the deep.



SONNET III.
ON LEAVING WALES.


   Why bursts the tear, as, Cambria, now I leave
   Thy wild variety of dale and hill,
   Where fancy, fond intruder, lingers still?
   Why do these parting sighs my bosom heave?
   ’Tis that, alas! I ne’er may view again
   Those haunts, those solitary scenes I love;
   But through this vale of tears forsaken rove,
   And taste the sad vicissitudes of pain:
   ’Tis that I sadly breathe a warm adieu
   To long-lost scenes of mutual amity;
   ’Tis that I turn, my absent friend, to thee,
   “Think on past pleasures, and solicit new!”
   For thee my fervent prayers to heaven ascend,
   And may we meet again as friend to friend.



SONNET IV.
TO THE WELSH HARP.


   Loved instrument! again repeat those sounds,
   Those plaintive airs, that through my senses steal
   With melancholy sweet.  Their pow’r I feel
   Soothing my sadness, healing sorrow’s wounds.
   Gently thou lull’st my sufferings to repose,
   Inclin’st my heart to every virtuous deed;
   Removing from my mind each dark’ning shade
   That clouds my days, increasing all my woes.
   Now swelling with the breeze, along thy vales,
   Romantic Cambria! the strain I hear,
   Then dying soft away, comes o’er my ear
   In whispers soft, still wafted by thy gales!
   Loved instrument! again repeat those sounds,
   Soothing my sadness, healing sorrow’s wounds.



SONNET V.


SUPPOSED TO BE WRITTEN BY MOON-LIGHT, ON THE SEA-SHORE AT TENBY.

    I love to mark the silver-curling spray
    Just kiss the pebbled shore; the zephyr blows,
    And ocean slumbers in serene repose;
    While the moon’s beams in quiv’ring radiance play
    Upon its surface: yet ere long, that tide
    May heave its foaming billows to the shore,
    And the sea boil in one tempestuous roar.
    See here thy picture, man! reason, thy guide,
    Can lull each gust of passion into rest!
    Her aid divine, her energy once lost,
    In what a sea of angry tumults tost,
    Raves the mad whirlwind of thy troubled breast!
    Blind passion then can reason’s aid refute,
    And degradate the man to worse than brute.



SONNET VI.
ON SEEING LLANGOLLEN VALE.


   O thou, too captious of each airy scheme,
   Fancy! thou dear delusive traitor, say,
   Are not thy charms the phantoms of a day,
   That mock possession, like a fleeting dream?
   Here could I spend, if such had been my lot,
   Quiet my life; nor should the shiv’ring poor
   Depart unfed, unaided, from my door.
   “Content is wealth,” the emblem of my cot.
   Here, by the brook, that gently babbles by,
   Should stand my garden; there, the blushing rose
   And woodbine should their sweetest scent disclose.
   But ah! farewell these dreams;—my big full eye
   Swells with the bursting tear—I think, how few
   The road to real happiness pursue!



SONNET VII.
PROSPECT OF SUN-RISE FROM SNOWDON.


   How grand the scene from this stupendous height!
   How awfully sublime! the king of day
   Flames in the east; old Ocean’s waves display
   One globe of fire! one boundless flood of light!
   With what unclouded lustre blaze the skies!
   While Mona’s flats tinged with a golden hue,
   Burst with transcendant beauty on the view;
   And, Man, {333} thy scarce seen mountains proudly rise.
   Nature beneath seems prostrate; and my sight
   Can hardly grasp the vast immensity!
   Can then the muse attempt to sing of thee,
   Nature’s great God!  Father of life and light!
   Who bade the sun his annual circle roll,
   Who guides, directs, and animates the whole.



SONNET VIII.
TO MY DOG.


   Yes, thou hast been companion of my Tour,
   And partner of my toils! hast rov’d with me
   Through Cambria’s rude and wild variety,
   And often sooth’d the solitary hour
   With thy caresses: yet false man can claim
   Superior reason, claim a mind endued
   With love, with faithfulness and gratitude;
   Love a mere sound, and gratitude a name.
   Yes, faithful creature! and when thou art gone,
   With fond attention shall thy bones be laid;
   And a small tribute to thy memory paid
   In these few words, engraven on thy stone:
   “Here let in peace the faithful Sylvio lie,
   The truest picture of fidelity.”




_CHART TO THE CAMBRIAN TOURIST._

Best Inns.             Counties.         Miles.            Route.            Objects most            Page.
                                                                             worthy of
                                                                             Attention—
                                                                             Rivers and
                                                                             noted Bridges.
Star, Angel, King’s    Oxford                              Oxford            Halls,                      1
Arms, and Roebuck                                                            Colleges, and
                                                                             Libraries,
                                                                             Heythrop (Earl
                                                                             of Shrewsbury),
                                                                             Nuneham
                                                                             Courtney (Earl
                                                                             Harcourt),
                                                                             Blenheim
Plough, Fleece, and    Gloucester                      40  Cheltenham        Pump Rooms and              6
George Hotel                                                                 Walks, Rooms,
                                                                             seat of Earl of
                                                                             Fauconberg,
                                                                             Cleavehill,
                                                                             Dowdeswell, &c.
                                                                             &c.
Hop Pole, Star and                                      9  Tewkesbury        Cathedral                   9
Garter
Bell, Booth-Hall,                                     10½  Gloucester        Ditto, Pin                 11
King’s Head                                                                  Manufactory,
                                                                             Isle of Alney,
                                                                             Gaol, Severn,
                                                                             Drawbridge,
                                                                             called Westgate
Bush, Full Moon,                                       34  Bristol           Ditto, St. Mary            13
Talbot, &c. &c.                                                              Redcliffe
                                                                             Church, St.
                                                                             Vincent’s Rocks
                                                                             and Clifton,
                                                                             King’s Weston,
                                                                             and Lord de
                                                                             Clifford’s,
                                                                             Lamplighters’
                                                                             Hall, and
                                                                             King’s Road
Bear                                                   12  Newnham           Garden Cliff at            23
                                                                             Westbury,
                                                                             Flaxley Abbey,
                                                                             Churchyard,
                                                                             View from
White Swan                                              7  Lidney            Iron-works,                25
                                                                             Pitchcock’s
Beaufort Arms, Three   Monmouth                         8  Chepstow          Castle, Church,       25, 322
Cranes                                                                       Piercefield,
                                                                             one mile from
                                                                             Chepstow,
                                                                             Llancaut
                                                                             Cliffs, Wye,
                                                                             and New Bridge
King’s Head,                                           16  Newport           (Between C. and            28
Westgate, and Parrot                                                         N. Caldecot
                                                                             Castle,
                                                                             Caerwent
                                                                             Pavement, Ruins
                                                                             of Caerleon),
                                                                             Usk, New
                                                                             Bridge, Castle
                                                           —                 Monmouth,                  29
                                                                             Ragland Castle
                                                                             and Church,
                                                                             Usk, Llangibby
                                                                             Castle, View,
                                                                             Caerleon, St.
                                                                             Julians
Angel, Cardiff Arms,   Glamorgan                      11¼  Cardiff           Tredegar House,            34
&c.                                                                          boundary of
                                                                             England and
                                                                             Wales, Cardiff
                                                                             Castle, Gaol,
                                                                             Bridge, and
                                                                             Taff
                                                        3  Landaff           Cathedral, St.             37
                                                                             Fajans
Boar’s Head                                             7  Caerphily         Castle, Thorn              39
                                                                             Hill, and View
Treherne’s Hotel                                       17  Merthyr           Vale of                    41
                                                                             Glamorgan,
                                                                             Pont-d-Pridd
                                                                             Iron-works the
                                                                             largest in the
                                                                             kingdom
Angel                                                  14  Pont Neath        Falls of                   47
                                                           Vechan            Scotenogarm,
                                                                             Lower and Upper
                                                                             Culliepste,
                                                                             Lady’s Cascade,
                                                                             Porthogo
                                                                             Cavern, Bwr
                                                                             Maen, Purthen
                                                                             and Neath
                                                                             Rivers
Ship and Castle                                        11  Neath             (Between P. N.             50
                                                                             and Aberdulas
                                                                             and Melincourt
                                                                             Waterfalls, the
                                                                             Knole) Abbey,
                                                                             Castle, and
                                                                             Copper-works
Mackworth Arms                                          9  Swansea           (View at                   53
                                                                             Britton Ferry,)
                                                                             Castle,
                                                                             Pottery, Tawe,
                                                                             Harbour, and
                                                                             Piers, New Walk
                                                                             and Rooms
Pot-House                                              20  Cheriton          Oystermouth                57
                                                                             Castle, Oxwich
                                                                             Bay, Penrice,
                                                                             King Arthur’s
                                                                             Stone
Ditto                  Caermarthen                     16  Kidwely           Llanelly                   59
                                                                             Church, Kidwely
                                                                             Castle
Ivy Bush, Boar’s                                       10  Caermarthen       Castle, Tin                60
Head                                                                         Works, Bridge
                                                                             over the Towy
Castle                                                12¼  Llaugharne        Llaugharne                 67
                                                                             Castle,
                                                                             Caermarthen Bay
Cobourg Hotel          Pembroke                        16  Tenby             (Between L. and            68
                                                                             T. Green
                                                                             Bridge, a
                                                                             curious
                                                                             excavation in
                                                                             the Rock)
                                                                             Castle, Church,
                                                                             Rocks, Walls,
                                                                             &c.
Green Dragon                                           10  Pembroke          Castle, Bridge,            73
                                                                             sail round
                                                                             Milford Haven,
                                                                             to Hubberstone,
                                                                             Tour by Mr.
                                                                             Fenton, &c. &c.
Hotel                                                  16  Milford           Dock Yards,                82
                                                                             Observatory,
                                                                             &c.
—                                                          Tenby                                        83
Blue Boar, Castle                                      20  Haverfordwest     Carew Castle,              87
                                                                             Cresseley,
                                                                             Landshipping,
                                                                             Picton Castle,
                                                                             Slebitch and
                                                                             Church, Priory
                                                                             at the end of
                                                                             the Parade
Black Lion                                             16  St. David’s       (Between H. and            89
                                                                             R. Castle, St.
                                                                             Bride’s Bay)
                                                                             Cathedral,
                                                                             Bishop’s
                                                                             Palace; Rocking
                                                                             Stone, two
                                                                             miles from St.
                                                                             David’s
                                                       16  Fishguard         In your way,               95
                                                                             take the place
                                                                             where the
                                                                             French landed,
                                                                             Gwain River
                                                        7  Newport           Two miles from             97
                                                                             N. Druidical
                                                                             Monuments
Black Lion             Cardigan                        11  Cardigan          Velindre, Tin             100
                                                                             Works,
                                                                             Kilgerran
                                                                             Castle, River
                                                                             Tyvi, Castle,
                                                                             Church, St.
                                                                             Doegmal’s Abbey
Good Accommodation                                     22  Aberaeron         Druidical                 101
                                                                             Monuments and
                                                                             Castle
Talbot, Gogerthan                                      15  Aberystwith       Fine Views,               102
Arms                                                                         Llanrysted,
                                                                             Llanryan
                                                                             Bridge, Castle,
                                                                             and walk round,
                                                                             Lead Mines
Havod Arms                                             12  Havod             Devil’s Bridge,           112
                                                                             Fall of the
                                                                             Rhyddol, of the
                                                                             Mynach, Havod
                                                                             House and
                                                                             Grounds
Eagles                 Montgomery                      27  Machynlleth       Plinlimmon,               121
                                                                             source of the
                                                                             Severn, &c.
                                                                             Owen Glyndwr’s
                                                                             Mansion, Dovey
                                                                             River, Bridge
Blue Lion              Merioneth                       10  Talylyn           (Between M. and           123
                                                                             T. Dyflas
                                                                             River) Cader
                                                                             Idris, Pool of
                                                                             Three Grains
Lion, Ship, Angel                                      16  Dolgelly          Beautiful                 124
                                                                             situation,
                                                                             Avon-vwar
                                                                             River,
                                                                             excursions to
                                                                             the Vale of the
                                                                             Dee, Caer Gai
                                                                             at the end of
                                                                             the Lake of
                                                                             Bala, and Dinas
                                                                             y Mowddwy
Corsy-Gedol Arms                                        8  Barmouth          From D. to B.             134
                                                                             extremely
                                                                             interesting,
                                                                             pleasant walks
                                                                             on the sands,
                                                                             and likewise on
                                                                             the hills over
                                                                             the town
Inn                                                    10  Harlech           Castle, a                 137
                                                                             golden Torques
                                                                             dug up in 1682
                                                                             (between B. and
                                                                             H. Corsy Gedol)
                                                           Barmouth          By Dolgelly to            139
                                                                             Travellers’
                                                                             Rest, Fall of
                                                                             Doly Melynllyn,
                                                                             Ditto Cayne and
                                                                             Moddach, Vale
                                                                             of Festiniog
                       Merioneth                       28  Tan-y-bwlch by    Tan-y-bwlch               146
                                                           Dolgelly and      Hall, Vale of
                                                           Falls             Festiniog,
                                                                             River Dayryd,
                                                                             Maentwrog,
                                                                             Tremadoc
                       Caernarvon                          Criccaeth         Tany-yr-alet,             149
                                                                             Castle,
                                                                             excursion by
                                                                             sea to the Isle
                                                                             of Bardsey,
                                                                             pass a Bay
                                                                             called Hell’s
                                                                             Mouth
                                                           Bardsey           Fine view of              151
                                                                             the coast,
                                                                             Abbot’s House
                                                                             and Chapel
Crown and Anchor                                       45  Pwlheli           About five                157
                                                                             miles from P.
                                                                             Carn-Madryn, an
                                                                             ancient
                                                                             fortress
Goat, a good Inn                                       20  Beddgelert        Several                   164
                                                                             Cromlechs,
                                                                             Penmorfa,
                                                                             Tremadoc, and
                                                                             embankments,
                                                                             Morva Lodge,
                                                                             Pont Aber
                                                                             Glaslyn
                                                        6  Snowdon           Beddgelert                170
                                                                             Church and
                                                                             Vale, V. of
                                                                             Nanhwynan, and
                                                                             Dinas Emrys,
                                                                             Pass of
                                                                             Drwsycoed,
                                                                             ascent and view
                                                                             from Snowdon
Anglesea Arms and                                      12  Caernarvon        Vale of                   185
Goat                                                                         Llanberries,
                                                                             Dolbadern
                                                                             Castle, Two
                                                                             Lakes, Caunant
                                                                             Mawr, and Caer
                                                                             cwm-y Glô,
                                                                             bridge over the
                                                                             Seiont, Castle,
                                                                             Chapel, ruins
                                                                             of Segontium,
                                                                             ancient Fort on
                                                                             the Seiont, &c.
                                                                             &c.
                       Anglesea                         6  Plâs Newydd       Fine view of              191
                                                                             the Menai, the
                                                                             elegant new
                                                                             mansion,
                                                                             Cromlechs and
                                                                             Carnedd,
                                                                             Saunderson’s
                                                                             Cottage
Penrhyn Arms,          Caernarvon                       4  Bangor, from P.   Beautiful                 199
Castle, and Albion                                         N.                situation of,
Hotel                                                                        Cathedral, view
                                                                             from the
                                                                             Church-yard,
                                                                             recent
                                                                             improvements,
                                                                             Bridge over the
                                                                             Menai, &c.
Bull’s Head            Anglesea                            Beaumaris         Fine views from           210
                                                                             the new road,
                                                                             Castle, Church,
                                                                             Baron Hill, the
                                                                             Friars,
                                                                             Priestholme
                                                                             Island
Ty Mawr                                                16  Amlwch            Dulas and Red             217
                                                                             Wharf Bay,
                                                                             pretty village
                                                                             and church of
                                                                             Pentraeth,
                                                                             Llanelian,
                                                                             Pary’s Mountain
Eagle and Child and                                    20  Holyhead          The Church, and           218
Hibernian-Hotel                                                              walls of the
                                                                             Church-yard,
                                                                             new Pier,
                                                                             cavern called
                                                                             the Parliament
                                                                             House.  The
                                                                             steam packets
Penrhyn Arms,          Caernarvon                      27  Bangor            Excursion to              221
Castle, and Albion                                                           Penrhyn Castle,
Hotel                                                                        Slate Quarries,
                                                                             Lime Grove,
                                                                             Llandegai
                                                                             Church, Ogwen
                                                                             Bank, Benglog,
                                                                             &c. about 20
                                                                             miles
Harp and Newborough                                    15  Conway            (Aber and the             240
Arms                                                                         Lavan Sands,
                                                                             Pen-maen-mawr,)
                                                                             at Conway the
                                                                             Castle, Plâs
                                                                             Mawr, Abbey,
                                                                             College
                                                       40  Ditto             Excursion to              244
                                                                             Caer Rhun,
                                                                             Rhaiadar Mawr,
                                                                             Llanrwst, Falls
                                                                             of the Conway
                                                                             and Machno,
                                                                             about 40 miles
Bee Inn                Denbigh                         20  Abergele by the   (Dinas Gonway,            250
                                                           Cridden           Gloddaith and
                                                                             Bodysgallen,
                                                                             the Orme’s
                                                                             head, Gywddno’s
                                                                             Weir,
                                                                             Cavern-arago,)
                                                                             Walk on the
                                                                             sands
White Lion             Flint                            7  St. Asaph         (Between A. and           252
                                                                             St. A. Rhuddlan
                                                                             Marsh,)
                                                                             Cathedral and
                                                                             view from its
                                                                             tower, Bishop’s
                                                                             Palace and
                                                                             Deanery
White Horse and                                        10  Holywell          (Between St. A.           255
King’s Arms                                                                  and H. the
                                                                             value of Clywd;
                                                                             to the right a
                                                                             Roman Pharos;)
                                                                             St. Winifred’s
                                                                             Well, various
                                                                             Mills; one mile
                                                                             and a quarter
                                                                             north, Ruins of
                                                                             Basing-werk
                                                                             Abbey
Royal Oak                                               6  Flint             Castle, Goal,             256
                                                                             and
                                                                             Smelting-house,
                                                                             (between F. and
                                                                             Chester ruins
                                                                             of Euloe Castle
                                                                             and Hawarden
                                                                             ditto)
Coach and Horses,      Chester                         15  Chester           Castle, Walls,            258
Hotel, Feathers, Hop                                                         Rows, Bishop’s
Pole, &c. &c.                                                                Palace,
                                                                             Hypocaust,
                                                                             Gaol, and near
                                                                             C. Eaton Hall
                                                                             and Park
Black Lion and         Flint                          11¾  Mold              Church Ruins of           267
Leeswood Arms                                                                the Castle,
                                                                             Cotton Spinning
                                                                             Mills, and near
                                                                             M. the
                                                                             Leeswoods and
                                                                             famous Iron
                                                                             Gates, Rhual
Crown and Black Bull   Denbigh                        16¼  Denbigh           (From M. to D.            271
                                                                             visit Kilken
                                                                             Church, Moel
                                                                             Famma,) Castle
                                                                             and fine view
                                                                             of the Vale of
                                                                             Clwyd, old
                                                                             Church
Cross Keys, White                                       8  Ruthin            (Between D. and           273
Lion                                                                         R. Well of St.
                                                                             Dyfnog,)
                                                                             Castle, Church,
                                                                             Gaol,
                                                                             Bowling-green,
                                                                             Vale of Clwyd
Eagles, Red Lion                                       16  Wrexham           Church, Offa’s            276
                                                                             Dyke, Erthig
                                                                             the seat of P.
                                                                             Yorke, Esq.,
                                                                             Church of
                                                                             Marchwiel
                                                        6  Ruabon            Wynnstay Park,            280
                                                                             Obelisk, Offa’s
                                                                             Dyke, (between
                                                                             R. and
                                                                             Llangollen,
                                                                             Pontcyscylltir,
                                                                             Aqueduct and
                                                                             River Dee)
Hand, King’s Head                                       8  Llangollen        Bridge over the           284
                                                                             Dee, Castle
                                                                             Dinas Brân,
                                                                             Lady E.
                                                                             Butler’s
                                                                             Cottage, Valle
                                                                             Crucis Abbey,
                                                                             Pillar of
                                                                             Eliseg
Wynnstay Arms, Cross   Salop                           12  Oswestry          (Between L. and           291
Keys                                                                         O. Chirk
                                                                             Castle,
                                                                             Aqueduct,
                                                                             Whittington,)
                                                                             Ruins of a
                                                                             Chapel, Castle,
                                                                             Church
Royal Oak, Bear        Montgomery                      15  Welsh Pool        Between O. and            294
                                                                             W. Llanymynach
                                                                             Hill, Breddin,
                                                                             Rodney’s
                                                                             Column, Virnwy
                                                                             River, Powis
                                                                             Castle
Dragon                                                  8  Montgomery        Between W. P.             295
                                                                             and M. fine
                                                                             view from the
                                                                             tower of
                                                                             Cherbury
                                                                             Church, Castle
                                                                             and Gaol,
                                                                             Ellesmere Canal
Castle                                                  9  Bishop’s Castle   Does not                  296
                                                                             present any
                                                                             thing to detain
                                                                             the Traveller;
                                                                             midway between
                                                                             B. C. and L. is
                                                                             an excellent
                                                                             Inn
Crown, Angel           Hereford                        17  Ludlow            Castle, Church,           297
                                                                             Cross, Walks
                                                                             round the
                                                                             Castle Walls,
                                                                             Bridge, Teme
                                                                             River
Red Lion, Crown,                                       11  Leominster        Market House,             304
King’s Arms                                                                  Church
City Arms, Green                                       12  Hereford          Cathedral,                305
Dragon, &c.                                                                  Castle, Walks,
                                                                             Gaol, Wye, new
                                                                             Market House
King’s Arms, King’s                         down the Wye.  Ross              Splendid                  306
Head                                                                         monument in the
                                                                             Church, View
                                                                             from the
                                                                             Prospect,
                                                                             Wilton Castle,
                                                                             and Bridge, Wye
Beaufort Arms,         Monmouth                            Monmouth          (Between Ross             316
King’s Head                                                                  and M. Goodrich
                                                                             Castle,
                                                                             Symond’s Yatch,
                                                                             Courtfield
                                                                             House, New
                                                                             Wier,) Castle
                                                                             Priory, Town
                                                                             Hall, Walk to
                                                                             Monmouth Folly,
                                                                             Wye, Duke of
                                                                             Beaufort’s
Beaufort Arms, Three                                   50  Chepstow          Castle, Church,           322
Cranes                                                                       Piercefield,
                                                                             one mile from
                                                                             Chepstow,
                                                                             Llancaut Cliff,
                                                                             Wye, New
                                                                             Bridge, between
                                                                             M. and C.
                                                                             Llandago,
                                                                             Tintern Abbey,
                                                                             Wyn Cliff, a
                                                                             corruption from
                                                                             Wye Cliff

INDEX.


Aber, 232

Aberaeron, 101

Aber Garth Celyn, 233

Abergele, 250

Aberystwith, 102

Alney, Isle of, 13

Amlwch, 212, 217

Anglesea, or Mona, Isle of, 206

Avon, 19

Aust, or Old Passage, 22

                                * * * * *

Bachegraig, 269

Bangor, 199

Bardsey, Isle of, 150

Barmouth, 134

Baron Hill, 210

Bearcroft Rock, 314

Beaumaris, 210

Beddgelert, 164

Benglog, Cataracts of, 227

Bishop’s Castle, 296

Blenheim, 5

Bodfari, 269

Bodscallan, 249

Bosherton Meer, 76

Brecon, 64

Breddin Hills and Column, 294

Bristol, 13

Britton Ferry, 52

Brynkir, 159

Bully Bear, 76

Burford, 6

                                * * * * *

Cader Idris, 130

Caerleon, 27, 32

Caermarthen, 60, 66

Caernarvon, 185, 195

Caerphily, 39

Caer Rhun, or Canovium, 244

Caerwent, 27

Caerwys, 270

Caldecot Castle, 26

Cannant Mawr, Waterfall of, 184

Capel Curig, 226

Cardiff, 34

Cardigan, 100

Carew Castle, 72, 84

Carreg, 254

Castle Dinas Brân, or Crow Castle, 286

Castle Morlais, 46

Castleton, 75

Cayne, Falls of the, 141

Cheltenham, 6

Chepstow, 25, 322

Chereton, or Stackpool Elidur, 78

Cheriton, 57

Chester, 258

Chirk, 286, 289

Christchurch, 27

Clawdh Offa, or Offa’s Dyke, 281

Cleave Hill, 7

Clenenney, 159

Clifton, 20

Cold Blow, 66

Coldwell Rocks, 312

Coleman’s Rocks, 319

Conway, 240, 246

Courtfield House, 311

Cresseley, 85

Criccaeth, 149

Crickhowel, 63

Cridden, 248

Culhepste, Upper and Lower, 48

Cwmdu, 63

Cwmgu, 64

Cynvel, Pulpit of, 148

Cyttiau Gwyddelod, 238

                                * * * * *

David’s, Saint, 89

Dee River, 281, 282, 283

Denbigh, 271

Devil’s Bridge, 107

Dinevawr, 65

Dolbadern Castle, 184

Dolgelly, 124

Dolwyddelan Castle, 159, 247

Dol-y-melynlln, 141

Dovey River, 122

Doward’s Rock, 315

Dowdeswell, 7

Downing, (Mr. Pennant’s) 254

Downton Castle, 304

Drwsycoed, Pass of, 169

Dwygyfchi, 237

Dyflas River, 122

Dyganwy, or Dinas Gonwy, 248

Dynas Brân, 286

                                * * * * *

Eaton Hall, 260

Eisteddfod, 270

Eryri, or Creigaúr Eryri, (Snowdoniana) description of, 178

Euloe Castle, 257

                                * * * * *

Fauconberg, Earl of, the seat of, 7

Festiniog, Vale of, 146

Fidenham Chase Hill, 319

Fishguard, 95

Flaxley Abbey, 23

Flint, 256

Forest of Deane, 29, 312

                                * * * * *

Glamorgan, Vale of, 40

Glocester, 11

Gloddaith, 249

Goodrich Castle, 311

Goodrich Priory, 310

Gored Wyddno, or Gywddno’s Weir, 248

Gosddinog, 235

Great Orme’s Head, 249

Green Bridge, 67

Grongar Hill, 66

Gwddu Glâs, 237

Gwydir House, 246

Gwyndy, 221

                                * * * * *

Harlech, 136

Haverfordwest, 87

Havod, 112

Haunton-on-Wye, 314

Hawarden Castle, 257

Hênllan, 75

Heythrop, 5

Hereford, 305

Holyhead, 218

Holywell, 253

Hubberston, 81, 136

                                * * * * *

Iestingtown, or Iseton, 75

                                * * * * *

Kidwelly, 59

Kilgerran Castle, 97

Kilken, the Church of, 268

King John, cruelty of, to the Jews, 15

King’s Weston, 20

Knole Castle, 50

Kymin Woods, 319

Kymmer Abbey, 133

                                * * * * *

Landshipping, 85

Lantphey Castle, 73

Leeswood, 267

Leominster, 304

Lidbrook Quay, 311

Lidney, 25

Linney Point, 76

Llanarth, 101

Llanbadem Vawr, 107

Llanbeblic, 188

Llanberris, Vale of, 177, 184

Llandaff, 37

Llandogo, 320

Llandegai, 225

Llandovery, 64

Llandudno, 250

Llanelian, 214

Llanelly, 59

Llanettyd, 133

Llanfair, 213

Llanfairfechin, 240

Llangoed, 236

Llangollen, 284

Llanruth, 274

Llanstaphan Castle, 66

Llanstundwy, 157

Llanwrst, 246

Llanymynach, 292

Llaugharne, 67

Llewini Hall, 271

Llyn Ogwen, 229

Loughor, 59

Ludlow, 297

Lysdin, 159

                                * * * * *

Machynlleth, 121

Maenwrog, 146

Maen y Campiau, 238

Maes Garmon, 268

Malvern Hills, 11

Mannorbeer Castle, 72

Manuck Farm, 313

March Wiel, 278

Mawddach, River and Fall of, 141

Menai, straits of, and ferries over, 187, 191, 192

—, bridge over, description of, 202

Merion Court, 76

Merthyr Tydvil, 42

Milford and Haven, 80, 82

Moel Arthur, 269

Moel Famma and Column, 268

Mold, 267

Mona, or Anglesea, 206

Monkton, 75

Monmouth, 29, 316

Monnow River, 319

Montgomery, 233, 295

Mumbles, 56

Mynach, Falls of, 108, 109

—, bridge over the, or Devil’s Bridge, 107, 108

Mynydd Caer Leon, 244

                                * * * * *

Nangle, Bay of, and Village, 75

Nanhwynan, Vale of, 169

Nanlley, Lake of, 169

Nanneau Park, 133

Nant, Ffrancon, 227, 229

Natives of Eryri, 178

—, Courtships, Marriages, &c. of, 180

—, modes of burying, 182

Neath, 50

Nevin, 189

Newgin, 88

Newnham, 25

New Passage, 22

Newport (Monmouth) 28, 34

Newport (Pembrokeshire) 97

New Wier, 313, 314

Northleach, 6

Northop, 257

Nuneham Courtney, 5

                                * * * * *

Oakley Park, 298, 303

Offa’s Dyke, 281

Ogwen, 226

—, Bank and River, 226

Orielton, 75

Oswestry, 291

Oxford, 1

Oxwich Bay, 57

Oystermouth Castle, 56

                                * * * * *

Pary’s, or Paris Mountain, 209, 217

Pembroke, 73

Penbedw Hall, 269

Pendyffryn, 239

Pen-mawn-mawr, 235

Penmorfa, 160

Pennard, 57

Penpold, (pleasure-house,) fine view from, 21

Penrhyn Castle, 222

Penrice, 57

Pentraeth, 212

Pen-y Vall Hill, 319

Peter’s Thumb, 323

Picton Castle, 85

Piercefield, 324

Pistyll y Cayne, 143

Plâs Gwynn, 212

Plâs Newydd, 191

Plinlimmon, 119

Plymouth Works, 42

Pont-Aber-Glaslyn, 148, 163

Pontcysyllty Aqueduct, 281, 289

Pont Neath Vechan, 47

Pont y Prid, 41

Porthogo Cavern, 49

Powis Castle, 295

Priory Pill, 83

Prospect, view from the, 307

Pwllheli, 157

Pystyll Rhaiadr, 292

                                * * * * *

Ragland Castle, 29

Ramsey Isle, 95

Redbrook Hills and Ironworks, 319

Red Wharf Bay, 212

Rhaiadr-du, 147

Rhaiadr Mawr, 245

Rhaiadr y Mawdach, 142

Rhôscrowther, 75

Rhuabon, 280

Rhual, 268

Rhuddlan, 251

Rhyddol, Vale of, and River, 103

Roach Castle, 89

Ross, 306

Ruredean Church, 311

Ruthin, 273

                                * * * * *

St. Asaph, 252

St. Briaval’s, 29

St. Bride’s Bay, 89

St. Clear’s, 66

St. David’s, 89

St. Degmen’s Well, 75

St. Dogmael’s Abbey, 101

St. Fynnon, St. Dyfnog, 273

St. Govan’s Chapel and Well, 76, 79

St. Julian’s, 33

St. Petrocks, 79

St. Stinan’s, or St. Justinian’s Chapel, 95

Segontium, 190

Seint, River and Fort of the, 190

Shirehampton, 21

Slebech, 87

Snowdon, 170

Solva, 89

Stackpool Court, 77

— Elidur, 79

Stretllan, 292

Swansea, 53

Sychnant, 236

Symond’s Yatch, 313

                                * * * * *

Taff River, 40

Taliesin, 249

Talylyn, 123

Tannad River, 292

Tan y Bwlch, 146

Tenby, 68

Tewkesbury, 9

Tintern and Tintern Abbey, 320

Tower, 267

Towy River, 63

Traeth Mawr, 161

Trecastle, 64

Trefan Hall, 157

Tremadoc, 148, 162

Tredegar House, 34

Twelve Apostles’ Rocks, 323

Tynymaes, 227

Tyvi River, 98

                                * * * * *

Vale of Clwyd, 253, 271, 272

— Conway, 246

— Festiniog, 146

— Glamorgan, 40

— Llangollen, 285

— the Severn, 294

Valle Crucis Abbey, 288

Velindre, 97

Victoria Alleluiatica, 268

Virnway River, 292

                                * * * * *

Upton, 11

Usk, 31

                                * * * * *

Walford Church, 310

Welsh, or British Games, 238

Welsh Pool, 294

Westbury, 23

Wilton Castle and Bridge, 305, 307

Witney, 6

Woodstock, 6

Worm’s Head, 58

Whitebrook Hills, 319

Whittington, 291

Wrexham, 276

Wye River, 307, 308, 309

Wynd Cliff, 323

Wynnstay Park, 280

Ynys-halen, 220

                                * * * * *

Y-Trivaen, 228

                                * * * * *

                                 THE END.

                                * * * * *

                                 LONDON:
            GILBERT & RIVINGTON, Printers, St. John’s Square.




FOOTNOTES.


{0}  For much of the present essay I am indebted to the following
works:—Commentarioli Britanniæ descriptionis fragmentum, Auctore Humfredo
Llwyd; Powel’s History of Wales; Edward Llwyd’s Notes, in Gibson’s
edition of Camden’s Britannica; Rowland’s Mona Antiqua Restaurata;
Stukeley’s Medallic History; the Preface to Owen’s Translation of the
Elegies of Llywarch Hen; Jones’s Musical and Poetical Relics of the Welsh
Bards; the Monthly Magazine, and the first and second volumes of the
Cambrian Register.

{25}  Atkins’s Gloucestershire.

{26}  Grose’s Antiquities.

{27}  Warner’s First Walk through Wales.

{28}  He was buried in the cathedral church of St. David, and many
hundred years after canonized by Pope Calistus II.—Godwin’s English
Bishops, p. 414.

{38a}  Willis’s Llandaff, p. 34.

{38b}  Grose—Willis.

{50}  Vol. ii. p. 92.

{57a}  Pennarth, eight miles south-west of Swansea.

{57b}  From the Welsh Pen Rhys.

{58}  William of Malmesbury, p. 158.

{72a}  Famous as being the birth-place of Sylvester Giraldus de Barri
(more generally known as Giraldus Cambrensis), nephew of David
Fitzgerald, Bishop of St. David’s; to which see Giraldus himself aspired.
He was twice elected to it by the chapter, but never attained that
dignity, although he had refused, in such expectation, three or four
bishoprics, as well as the archbishopric of Cashel.  Acting as legate to
the Archbishop of Canterbury in Wales, he evinced great spirit in
correcting numerous abuses which had crept into the church in that
principality.  The great credit which he derived from these spirited
exertions was greatly added to by the many valuable works he bequeathed
to posterity, the merits of which have been recently revived under the
fostering auspices of Sir Richard C. Hoare, Bart., who has enhanced the
value and interest of his translation of the Itinerary of Giraldus by
illustrations derived from his own pencil.  Seventeen years before his
death he resigned all his ecclesiastical preferments, giving himself up
to his studies: he died in the 74th year of his age, at St. David’s,
where his monument is still remaining.

{72b}  The pedestrian will not possibly find time to examine the ruins of
Carew Castle in this day’s route, but will find it more convenient to
visit it in his way from Tenby to Haverfordwest.

{80a}  The price for two oars seven shillings and sixpence; and twelve
shillings and sixpence for four oars.

{80b}  Wyndham’s Tour through Monmouthshire and Wales.

{80c}  Philosophical Survey of Ireland.

{88a}  “This castle (says an eminent author) is said to have been built
by Gilbert, Earl of Clare, who lived in the reign of King Stephen; and
Camden reports, that Richard, Earl of Clare, made Richard Fitz-Tancred
governor thereof.  It was one of those in the hands of the Flemings, when
they first came into Dyvet, or Pembrokeshire.”

{88b}  These lines were frequently repeated by Dr. Johnson, whose
partiality to inns is well known.

{90}  “This celebrated person was uncle to King Arthur, and son of a
Prince of Wales.  After being seated in the see of St. David sixty-five
years, and having built twelve monasteries; after having been exemplary
in the piety of these days, this holy person died, at a most advanced
period of human life; having attained, as it is said, to the age of one
hundred and forty-six years.  He was buried in the cathedral church of
St. David, and many years after canonized by Pope Calistus the Second.”
Warrington’s History of Wales, vol. ii. p. 385.

{91a}  To whose son a MS. t. Elizabeth, quoted by Willis, p. 69, gives
Owen’s monuments.

{91b}  Tan. Bib. Brit.

{91c}  Tanner, p. 720.

{94}  Pope Calistus, by whom David was canonized, had, it seems, raised
this place to a rank second only to the pontifical city itself, in the
meritorious efficacy of the pilgrimages made to it; having declared that
two visits to St. David’s were equal to one to Rome:—this occasioned a
proverbial rhyme in Welsh, which has been thus translated into Latin:

    Roma semel quantum, bis dat Menevia tantum.

{95}  Leland, Vol. V. p. 25.

{96}  For a description of these monuments, see Wyndham.

{98}  “From _Cwrwgl_: in Irish _Curach_.  The Greenland boats are also
made of laths, tied together with whalebone, and covered with seal-skins.
In these slender vehicles they are said to be able to row upwards of
sixty miles a day; and the tops being covered with skins, they resist the
fury of every storm.  For when a wave upsets them, the boat rises again
to the surface of the water, and regains its equilibrium.  When Frobisher
first saw them, in 1576, he took them for seals or porpoises.  In the
voyages of the two Zenos, they are compared to weavers’ shuttles.  They
are used, also, in the islands of the North-Asian Archipelago, where the
Russians call them _Baidars_; and are found to be of such practical use,
that Lieut. Kotzebue, in his expedition along the American coast of the
Frozen Sea, took with him boats of a similar construction, in order to
ford any rivers that might obstruct his journey.  Similar boats are used
by the Samoides of Nova Zembla.  They are also used in Labrador, Hudson’s
Bay, and Norton Sound.  They glide with almost inconceivable swiftness.
The Arctic highlanders of Baffin’s Bay, however, have no method of
navigating the water.  They never even heard of a canoe.”—_Beauties_,
_Harmonies_, _and Sublimities of Nature_, Vol. iii. p. 335.  Second Edit.

{101}  Itinerary, Vol. V. p. 12.

{102}  Over the river Rhyddol.

{104}  Near the town of Aberystwith, in the year 1795 or 1796, a very
fine coral stone was found, washed up from the sea, by an exciseman.  It
is now in the possession of Mr. Charles Hall, of Aller, in Hilton parish,
Dorsetshire; is extremely fine on one side, near two inches in diameter,
rather flat, but with some convexity.  The late Dr. Pulteney, of
Blandford, allowed it to be the finest specimen he had ever seen.  Its
colour is a yellowish white, its filaments are finely curved, and very
uneven on the surface.

{107}  The additions to Camden, 1695, supposed this Bishop Idnert.

{119}  Called in Latin, Vaga.

{121}  See an excellent account of the woollen manufactory in the seventh
chapter of Aikin’s Tour through North Wales.

{123}  See Pennant’s Snowdonia, p. 89, and likewise Wilson’s excellent
View of Cader Idris.

{124}  Mr. Pennant, in his Snowdonia, p. 397, edit. 1781, mentions, that
there are brought annually to Salop “seven hundred thousand yards of web;
and to Welsh Pool, annually, between seven and eight hundred thousand
yards of flannel;” but he does not state the particulars whence he
deduces his general estimate.  I have quoted this passage from Aikin’s
excellent chapter (vii.) on the woollen manufacture of North Wales, not
having in my possession Mr. P’s. Snowdonia.

{128}  First Walk through Wales.

{155}  Dr. Fuller observes, “It would be more facile to find graves for
as many saints, than saints for so many graves.”

{166}  Gelert was given to Llewelyn by King John, in 1205.

{170}  Evan Thomas worked in the copper-works at Aber Glaslyn, and lived
at a place called Drwsycoed, about a mile and a half beyond Beddgelert.

{171}  The most usual and best direction, in which to ascend Snowdon at
the present day, commences between the New Inn and Dolbadarn Castle, near
the Bridge.

{181}  “The Cambrian fair would blush as much at the term _courting in
bed_ as any other modest female would, that has never heard of this
custom before.  It is not expressed _Caru-yn-y-Gwely_, which means
_courting in bed_; but _Caru-ar-y-Gwely_, courting on the bed.  Should
the lover offer any indecency, his mistress would not only fly from him
with the velocity of lightning, but he would be fortunate if she would so
leave him without giving him a bloody nose at parting.  In a few days
also, the tidings of his impudence would reach the ears of every lass in
the neighbourhood; his company would be shunned with the greatest
caution: and were he so successful as to prevail upon a young woman to
accept of his visits, her continency would be considered as doubtful.”

{183a}  “Assembled there, from pious toil they rest,
And sadly share the last sepulchral feast.”

                                                             POPE’S HOMER.

{183b}  This last custom is not in use in Anglesea.

{186}  Such is the received opinion; but the place noted for this event
is only a thoroughfare to the grand apartments of the tower, the middle
one of which appears more probably to have been the room.  They shew also
a cradle in which the Prince is said to have been rocked.

{187}  “On the outside of the town walls is a broad and pleasant terrace
along the side of the Menai, extending from the quay to the north end of
the town walls, and in the evening is a fashionable promenade for persons
of all descriptions.  From the top of a rock behind the hotel is a fine
view of the town and castle: and on a clear day the Isle of Anglesea,
Holyhead, and Parys Mountains, may be distinctly seen, like a good map
before the eyes.”—EVANS.

{188}  The parish church is dedicated to Publicius, a brother of the
far-famed and illustrious Helen, whose splendid acts in favour of
Christianity are at this day attested in Palestine.  Near the church are
the remains of Segontium, built about the year A.D. 365, by Maximus; or,
as he is styled by the British historians, Maxen Wledig.  It was from
hence, it is supposed, that Maximus marched in his ill-fated expedition
to gain the imperial purple at Rome, taking with him all the youth whom
Helen invited to join his standard.  The line of march which he pursued
is, even at this time, traditionally recorded amongst the common people
in the neighbourhood.

{191}  The hire of a boat is from seven shillings and sixpence to
half-a-guinea.

{192}  “The eastern seems originally to have consisted of seven stones,
six uprights supporting an immense superincumbent one (with its flat face
lying upon them), thirteen feet long, nearly as much broad, and four feet
thick.”—Warner’s Second Walk through Wales.

{195}  Before the author of this itinerary proposed publishing this tour
through the Cambrian territories, he was induced to send an account of
this extraordinary sect to the Gentleman’s Magazine, July, 1799, p. 579.
This is, therefore, only to be considered as a repetition: with the
addition of a brief extract from two subsequent letters, September, 1799,
p. 741; and November, p. 938; given to the public by different hands
through the medium of the Gentleman’s Magazine.

{197}  September, 1799, p. 741.

{200}  “Bishops Glynn, 1550; Robinson, 1584; Vaughan, 1597; Rowlands,
1616; Morgan, 1673; and one with a cross fleuri in the south transept,
ascribed to Owen Glendwr: but as he was buried at Monington, in
Herefordshire, where he died, I should rather ascribe it to some of the
earlier bishops.  Mr. Pennant gives it to Owen Gwynned.”

{204}  A Trip to the Suspension Bridge over the Menai Straits.  P. 11.

{206}  Id est, the _Englishman’s Island_; having become subject to the
English in the time of Egbert.  See Rowland’s Mon. Ant. p. 172, 3.

{224}  See an elegant poem written by Owain Cyveiliog, a bard who
flourished in the twelfth century, intitled, “Hirlas Owain.”  The
original may be found in Evan Evans’s Collections, published with an
English dress in Pennant’s Tours, Vol. iii. p. 93.  This spirited
translation, by a gentleman, under the signature of R. W. must convince
the reader of genuine taste, that a true poetical genius pervaded at
times the bosom of the Welsh: and that some of Owain Cyveiliog’s works
scarcely need shrink from a comparison with the first classical
productions of Lyric poetry.

{233}  Princess Joan, daughter of John, King of England.

{243}  A Trip to the Suspension Bridge over the Menai Straits, p. 27.

{248}  Elphin was particularly unfortunate, as the Editor has frequently
seen from fifty to a hundred fine salmon taken from this weir at a tide;
and herrings drawn from it by cart loads.

{256a}  Evans.

{256b}  Vol. iv. p. 67, 2nd Edit.

{266}  The daughter of this gentleman was married to Captain Franklin,
well known for his Expedition to North America, &c.  She was an amiable
and accomplished woman, and author of two Poems, highly honourable to her
memory: “The Veils,” and “Richard Cœur de Leon.”

{279}  Since our visit to this spot, Mr. Yorke has published a most
excellent and valuable book, entitled, A History of the Royal Tribes of
Wales.

{281}  Enquire the way to this aqueduct at the turnpike, about four miles
from Llangollen.

{285a}  Lady Eleanor Butler.

{285b}  Miss Ponsonby.

{285c}  Willis’s St. Asaph, p. 52. 285.

{286}  From a second survey of my note-book, I perceive, when speaking of
the house, I omitted mentioning that there are several family pieces,
both of the Wynne and Williams, worthy the inspection of the connoisseur.
The house has been built at various times.

{299}  This estimation is taken from the Ludlow guide: from which I have
taken such extracts, as, I flatter myself, will not be unacceptable to
the tourist.  We dedicated two or three days to the investigation of this
interesting town; and, consequently, in those parts where the guide is
defective, we have made considerable additions.

{310}  “This view,” says Mr. Gilpin, “is one of the grandest on the
river, which I should not scruple to call _correctly picturesque_; which
is seldom the character of a purely natural scene.”

{311}  “The view at _Rure-dean Church_,” says Mr. Gilpin, “is a scene of
great grandeur.  There both sides of the river are steep and both woody;
but in one the woods are intermixed with rocks.  The deep umbrage of the
forest of Dean occupies the front; and the spire of the church rises
among the trees.  The reach of the river which exhibits this scene is
long: and, of course, the view, which is a noble piece of natural
perspective, continues some time before the eye: but when the spire comes
directly in front, the grandeur of the landscape is gone.”

{312}  “The river is wider at this part,” says Mr. Gilpin, “and takes a
sweep round a towering promontory of rock, which forms the side-screen on
the left, and is the grand feature of the view.  It is not a broad
fractured face of rock; but rather a woody hill, from which large rocky
projections, in two or three places, burst out, rudely hung with twisting
branches and shaggy furniture, which, like mane round the lion’s head,
give a more savage air to these wild exhibitions of nature.  Near the top
a pointed fragment of solitary rock, rising above the rest, has rather a
fantastic appearance; but it is not without its effect in marking the
scene.  A great master in landscape has adorned an imaginary view with a
circumstance exactly similar:

    Stabat acuta silex, præcisis undique saxis,
    — dorso insurgens, altissima visu,
    Dirarum nidis domus opportuna volucrum,
    — prona jugo, lævum incumbebat ad amnem.”

                                                            ÆN. VIII. 233.

{317}  Tanner’s Notitia Monastica.

{321}  Warner’s first Walk through Wales.

{333}  The isles of Anglesea and Man are discovered from Snowdon.

*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 64132 ***