CAERGWRLE,(Flintshire.)

Chester

Hawarden

Mold

Wrexham

Caergwrle was once a flourishing town, but has dwindled into an insignificant village. Its parish church is about a mile distant. There is good reason for believing that Caergwrle was a Roman station, probably an outpost to Deva. Camden discovered here an hypocaust, hewn out of the solid rock, six yards and a quarter long, five yards broad, and somewhat more than half a yard in height. On some of the tiles were inscribed the letters, “Legio xx.” which seem to denote the founders. This is further corroborated by the name of the place, “Caer gawr lleng,” (the camp of the great legion), Cawr lleng being the name by which the Britons distinguished the twentieth legion.

The castle stood on the summit of a high rock. Its present remains are very inconsiderable; they are, however, sufficient to indicate that it never could have been a fortress of any great importance.

Is an inconsiderable village, little more than a mile from Caergwrle; it also has the remains of a castle, at which Eleanor, queen of Edward the First, made some stay on her way to Caernarvon.—Within a short distance are the mansions of Bryn Yorkyn and Plâs Têg. Caergwrle and Hope, in conjunction with Flint, Caerwys, Rhuddlan, Overton, and Holywell, send a member to Parliament.

Angling station:—the river Alun.

Bangor

Beaumaris

Beddgelert

Capel Curig

Dolbadarn Castle

Ffestiniog

Llanberis

London by Chester

254

— by Shrewsbury

236

Pwllheli

Tan-y-Bwlch

Tre-Madoc

Caernarvon is the capital of the county, and is one of the largest and best towns in North Wales. It name is properlyCaer yn Arvon, which signifies a walled town in the district opposite to Anglesea. Ar Vôn or Ar Môn implies opposite to Mona.

“Caernarvon (we adopt the interesting and elegant description of Mr. Roscoe,) is built on a peninsula, formed by the Menai on the west and north sides, and by the Seiont on the south. It was formerly enclosed by walls, defended by a chain of round towers, which on three sides are still nearly entire. In former times there were but two gates through which the inhabitants passed, but other openings have been more recently made to form communications with the suburbs, which are rapidly extending. The town-hall is over one of the ancient gates of the town.A terrace, extending from the quay to the north end of the walls, offers a delightful promenade, and presents a variety of interesting objects around the port, which is daily rising into greater importance by receiving and dispensing the fruits of industry and commerce. This terrace, Mr. Bransby observes, possesses the powerful recommendation of being always clean, and of soon becoming dry after heavy and continued rain. From this walk to behold the sun on a calm summer evening, as he goes down ‘in a paradise of clouds’ behind the Anglesea hills, is to witness one of the most lovely and glorious spectacles in nature. On an eminence called the Twt-hill, near the Uxbridge Arms Hotel, is a most extensive and varied panoramic view, including part of the Snowdonian range,—the isle of Anglesea, with its plains, farms, and villas, backed by the mountains of Holyhead and Parys,—the swelling Menai,—and the blue and spacious bay, with the sea stretching far beyond.The harbour and the pier have both undergone very great improvement, and ships of considerable burthen can now come up alongside the quay. An extensive trade is carried on with Liverpool, Dublin, Bristol, Swansea, &c., besides a lucrative coast trade, exchanging the invaluable mineral substances of this part of the Principality for timber and other articles. Slates are brought here as to the general depôt from the quarries about Llanberis and Llanllyfni; and the country people of all ranks resort hither, as the best and cheapest market, from a considerable distance.The market-house, erected by the corporation, the Uxbridge Arms Hotel, by the Marquis of Anglesea, a number of excellent inns, among which stand foremost the Goat Hotel and theSportsman, with hot and cold baths, and a billiard-room, render the modern town as pleasant and commodious a place of residence as the most fastidious nabob,—to say nothing of hardy Welshmen and pedestrian ramblers,—could possibly desire.Caernarvon is resorted to as a bathing place, and by invalids seeking health and amusement, for a temporary residence. There are here the advantages of a genteel neighbourhood as well as salubrious air; and the rambler in quest of romantic scenery frequently makes this town his head quarters. Besides many pleasant walks and rides in the immediate vicinity, within the circle of a dozen miles are the Menai Straits as far as Bangor, Llanberis, Snowdon, Plâs Newydd, and Beddgelert, offering not only inducements to those in search of the picturesque, but affording a source of continued gratification to the botanist, mineralogist, and antiquary.The parish church of Caernarvon is at Llanbeblig, and stands in its loneliness at the distance of half a mile to the south-east of the castle wall. It is a structure of great antiquity, and contains the altar-tomb of Sir William Gruffydd (a member of the Penrhyn family) and Margaret, his wife. The knight mailed in armour, and the lady in the full dress of the age, are sculptured in white marble, and lie side by side. English service is performed at a chapel of ease at Caernarvon, close to the castle; but in this venerable little place the service is conducted in Welsh. The churchyard exhibits the peculiarities which give a touching interest to some of the burying places of the Principality. Flowers of all colours, but especially snowdrops, violets, and pale primroses, display their beauty and expend their perfume on the graves of children, and maidens ‘that die unmarried,’ while branches of the box, arbutus, and laurel, with shrubs of a firm and sombre hue, mark the resting places of the more matured in this ‘City of the Silent.’For its ample and magnificent feudal structure,—almost terrible to the eye,—Caernarvon is indebted to the first Edward, who raised this colossal castle—as if in derision of the poor tenure of all sovereign power—near the ruins of the great Roman station. Soon after his conquest, Edward began the stupendous pile, which served less to overawe the Welsh than for a magnificent ruin and a modern wonder. The remains of Segontium furnished part of the materials, bright grey limestone, of exceeding durability, was brought from Twr Celyn, inAnglesea, and grit-stone, for the windows and arches, from Vaenol, between Caernarvon and Bangor.Vast, irregular, and more shattered than its exterior grandeur would lead us to suppose, this giant-fortress stretches far along the west of the town, its broad spreading walls being surmounted, at intervals, with octagonal towers. The extent of the courts, the gateways, and the towers, bear equal witness to those noble proportions which astonish the modern architect, as from its Eagle-turrets he commands the whole of its magnificent area, and the wide sweeping circuit of its walls.Opposite the massive Eagle tower, in which the unfortunate Edward the Second was born, is the Queen’s Gate,[76]which had two portcullises that communicated with a drawbridge across the moat. Over the embattled parapet are seen the turrets rising majestically above the solitary ruins, bounded on two sides by the water; the third bears traces of a large ditch; on the north-east side is a deep well, nearly filled up, with a round tower contiguous to it, apparently the ancient dungeon. The exterior, and especially the main entrance, has an air offorlorn grandeur, blended with massy strength, which must at all times excite admiration and awe in the beholder. The area within is irregularly oblong, and was divided into an outer and inner court. The external walls of the castle, enclosing an area of great extent, are nearly as perfect as when they were built, and of considerable height and thickness.The state apartments appear to have been spacious, commodious, and handsomely ornamented; the windows wide, and enriched with elegant tracery. The form is polygonal, though the exterior of the edifice presents a complete square. The floors and staircases are considerably injured—in many places wholly demolished. A gallery extended round the entire fortress, to serve as a means of communication in times of danger, and during a siege. It lay close to the outer walls, and was provided with narrow slips, adapted for stations, from which to annoy an enemy with arrows or other missiles as occasion might require. But its time-worn and ivy-covered bulwarks are now fast yielding, like the interior, to the assaults of time. Some years ago the Eagle tower, struck by lightning, was split down several yards from the summit, giving it still more the aspect of a splendid ruin.It was evening, as I before said, when I first caught sight of the castle. The sun’s disk had sunk below the horizon, but his refracted rays still played upon that imaginary line ‘which parts the day and night,’ casting an attenuated melancholy grace over the crumbling fortress. I lingered amongst those ruins till the last vestige of light was withdrawn, except such as is bestowed by a clear blue firmament emblazoned with burning stars. As I gazed, the phantoms of history passed rapidly before my mental eye, with an order and truth like unto the facts treasured in her pages, and with a realizing illusion that converted me into an actual spectator of the scenes. From the topmost point of the Eagle Tower a prophetic voice seemed to issue, dispelling the delusion that in those days clung to the hearts of the stricken Cambrians, that their own-loved Arthur would again appear to raise up their fast-falling nation to its former glory. I saw the stern conqueror buckling on his armour, after the Easter festival, resolute to conquer or exterminate the defenders of that ancient land. I heard the wailing of that dark and stormy night of Palm Sunday, when the strong hold of Hawarden fell before his victorious sword. I tracked the line of march his countless legions took throughthe deep forest, reaching, in ancient times, from the confines of Cheshire to the mountains of Snowdon, leaving Flint and Rhuddlan still frowning in their perilled rear; and I looked upon the picture of that onslaught at the bridge of Moel-y-don, when an English knight was seen buffeting the waves of Menai, and alone escaped to tell the tale of national vengeance. The panorama shifted, and another pictured page discovered that gallant prince, the last of his race who held the sceptre of the Cymri, slowly retreating before his haughty foe into the mountain holds hard by,—dispirited, though not despairing,—cursed by the priest whom Edward brought to curse him,—deluded by the soothsayer, whose prophecy bore ‘a double sense,’ too fatally fulfilled in his own person,—deserted by many of his friends, and his affianced wife basely held a captive in the hands of his enemy. The scene then moved; the undaunted hero still struggled with his fate, once the sovereign of the whole land, now only lord of the five baronies of Snowdon,—goaded by the insults of his mean conqueror,—maddened into open war,—betrayed by his base confederate lords,—and perishing alone and defenceless in the solitary recesses of a wood. Such was the strange eventful story; and that castle which marked the triumph of the conqueror, and the subjection of the people—which heard the infant cries of the first English prince of this cheated land—which opened wide at midnight its gates to troops of warrior-knights belonging to an alien country—which rung again and again with the rude revelry of that barbarous age, when the pageant and tournament of Nefyn was ended,—and which in the days of its strength, passed into the hands of foes, and friends, and fratricides,—that castle in its gaunt ruins, yet remained as the monument of these records, and the tomb in which past ages silently slept.”

A terrace, extending from the quay to the north end of the walls, offers a delightful promenade, and presents a variety of interesting objects around the port, which is daily rising into greater importance by receiving and dispensing the fruits of industry and commerce. This terrace, Mr. Bransby observes, possesses the powerful recommendation of being always clean, and of soon becoming dry after heavy and continued rain. From this walk to behold the sun on a calm summer evening, as he goes down ‘in a paradise of clouds’ behind the Anglesea hills, is to witness one of the most lovely and glorious spectacles in nature. On an eminence called the Twt-hill, near the Uxbridge Arms Hotel, is a most extensive and varied panoramic view, including part of the Snowdonian range,—the isle of Anglesea, with its plains, farms, and villas, backed by the mountains of Holyhead and Parys,—the swelling Menai,—and the blue and spacious bay, with the sea stretching far beyond.

The harbour and the pier have both undergone very great improvement, and ships of considerable burthen can now come up alongside the quay. An extensive trade is carried on with Liverpool, Dublin, Bristol, Swansea, &c., besides a lucrative coast trade, exchanging the invaluable mineral substances of this part of the Principality for timber and other articles. Slates are brought here as to the general depôt from the quarries about Llanberis and Llanllyfni; and the country people of all ranks resort hither, as the best and cheapest market, from a considerable distance.

The market-house, erected by the corporation, the Uxbridge Arms Hotel, by the Marquis of Anglesea, a number of excellent inns, among which stand foremost the Goat Hotel and theSportsman, with hot and cold baths, and a billiard-room, render the modern town as pleasant and commodious a place of residence as the most fastidious nabob,—to say nothing of hardy Welshmen and pedestrian ramblers,—could possibly desire.

Caernarvon is resorted to as a bathing place, and by invalids seeking health and amusement, for a temporary residence. There are here the advantages of a genteel neighbourhood as well as salubrious air; and the rambler in quest of romantic scenery frequently makes this town his head quarters. Besides many pleasant walks and rides in the immediate vicinity, within the circle of a dozen miles are the Menai Straits as far as Bangor, Llanberis, Snowdon, Plâs Newydd, and Beddgelert, offering not only inducements to those in search of the picturesque, but affording a source of continued gratification to the botanist, mineralogist, and antiquary.

The parish church of Caernarvon is at Llanbeblig, and stands in its loneliness at the distance of half a mile to the south-east of the castle wall. It is a structure of great antiquity, and contains the altar-tomb of Sir William Gruffydd (a member of the Penrhyn family) and Margaret, his wife. The knight mailed in armour, and the lady in the full dress of the age, are sculptured in white marble, and lie side by side. English service is performed at a chapel of ease at Caernarvon, close to the castle; but in this venerable little place the service is conducted in Welsh. The churchyard exhibits the peculiarities which give a touching interest to some of the burying places of the Principality. Flowers of all colours, but especially snowdrops, violets, and pale primroses, display their beauty and expend their perfume on the graves of children, and maidens ‘that die unmarried,’ while branches of the box, arbutus, and laurel, with shrubs of a firm and sombre hue, mark the resting places of the more matured in this ‘City of the Silent.’

For its ample and magnificent feudal structure,—almost terrible to the eye,—Caernarvon is indebted to the first Edward, who raised this colossal castle—as if in derision of the poor tenure of all sovereign power—near the ruins of the great Roman station. Soon after his conquest, Edward began the stupendous pile, which served less to overawe the Welsh than for a magnificent ruin and a modern wonder. The remains of Segontium furnished part of the materials, bright grey limestone, of exceeding durability, was brought from Twr Celyn, inAnglesea, and grit-stone, for the windows and arches, from Vaenol, between Caernarvon and Bangor.

Vast, irregular, and more shattered than its exterior grandeur would lead us to suppose, this giant-fortress stretches far along the west of the town, its broad spreading walls being surmounted, at intervals, with octagonal towers. The extent of the courts, the gateways, and the towers, bear equal witness to those noble proportions which astonish the modern architect, as from its Eagle-turrets he commands the whole of its magnificent area, and the wide sweeping circuit of its walls.

Opposite the massive Eagle tower, in which the unfortunate Edward the Second was born, is the Queen’s Gate,[76]which had two portcullises that communicated with a drawbridge across the moat. Over the embattled parapet are seen the turrets rising majestically above the solitary ruins, bounded on two sides by the water; the third bears traces of a large ditch; on the north-east side is a deep well, nearly filled up, with a round tower contiguous to it, apparently the ancient dungeon. The exterior, and especially the main entrance, has an air offorlorn grandeur, blended with massy strength, which must at all times excite admiration and awe in the beholder. The area within is irregularly oblong, and was divided into an outer and inner court. The external walls of the castle, enclosing an area of great extent, are nearly as perfect as when they were built, and of considerable height and thickness.

The state apartments appear to have been spacious, commodious, and handsomely ornamented; the windows wide, and enriched with elegant tracery. The form is polygonal, though the exterior of the edifice presents a complete square. The floors and staircases are considerably injured—in many places wholly demolished. A gallery extended round the entire fortress, to serve as a means of communication in times of danger, and during a siege. It lay close to the outer walls, and was provided with narrow slips, adapted for stations, from which to annoy an enemy with arrows or other missiles as occasion might require. But its time-worn and ivy-covered bulwarks are now fast yielding, like the interior, to the assaults of time. Some years ago the Eagle tower, struck by lightning, was split down several yards from the summit, giving it still more the aspect of a splendid ruin.

It was evening, as I before said, when I first caught sight of the castle. The sun’s disk had sunk below the horizon, but his refracted rays still played upon that imaginary line ‘which parts the day and night,’ casting an attenuated melancholy grace over the crumbling fortress. I lingered amongst those ruins till the last vestige of light was withdrawn, except such as is bestowed by a clear blue firmament emblazoned with burning stars. As I gazed, the phantoms of history passed rapidly before my mental eye, with an order and truth like unto the facts treasured in her pages, and with a realizing illusion that converted me into an actual spectator of the scenes. From the topmost point of the Eagle Tower a prophetic voice seemed to issue, dispelling the delusion that in those days clung to the hearts of the stricken Cambrians, that their own-loved Arthur would again appear to raise up their fast-falling nation to its former glory. I saw the stern conqueror buckling on his armour, after the Easter festival, resolute to conquer or exterminate the defenders of that ancient land. I heard the wailing of that dark and stormy night of Palm Sunday, when the strong hold of Hawarden fell before his victorious sword. I tracked the line of march his countless legions took throughthe deep forest, reaching, in ancient times, from the confines of Cheshire to the mountains of Snowdon, leaving Flint and Rhuddlan still frowning in their perilled rear; and I looked upon the picture of that onslaught at the bridge of Moel-y-don, when an English knight was seen buffeting the waves of Menai, and alone escaped to tell the tale of national vengeance. The panorama shifted, and another pictured page discovered that gallant prince, the last of his race who held the sceptre of the Cymri, slowly retreating before his haughty foe into the mountain holds hard by,—dispirited, though not despairing,—cursed by the priest whom Edward brought to curse him,—deluded by the soothsayer, whose prophecy bore ‘a double sense,’ too fatally fulfilled in his own person,—deserted by many of his friends, and his affianced wife basely held a captive in the hands of his enemy. The scene then moved; the undaunted hero still struggled with his fate, once the sovereign of the whole land, now only lord of the five baronies of Snowdon,—goaded by the insults of his mean conqueror,—maddened into open war,—betrayed by his base confederate lords,—and perishing alone and defenceless in the solitary recesses of a wood. Such was the strange eventful story; and that castle which marked the triumph of the conqueror, and the subjection of the people—which heard the infant cries of the first English prince of this cheated land—which opened wide at midnight its gates to troops of warrior-knights belonging to an alien country—which rung again and again with the rude revelry of that barbarous age, when the pageant and tournament of Nefyn was ended,—and which in the days of its strength, passed into the hands of foes, and friends, and fratricides,—that castle in its gaunt ruins, yet remained as the monument of these records, and the tomb in which past ages silently slept.”

A rail-road has lately been formed from Llanllyfni to Caernarvon, a distance of more than nine miles, for the purpose of conveying the copper ore and slates to the quay.

A most interesting part of the Menai Straits is connected with Caernarvon. Tourists may enjoy boating in perfection, either on the Tal-y-Foel ferry, the new ferry at Barris, to which a good road has recently been made, through the lands of the Marquis of Anglesea, by his free permission; or to Aber-mania, at the mouth or gap of the straits, and then to Llanddwyn, where are the remains of an old abbey. On the opposite side the gap to Aber-mania is St. David’s Fort, a marine residenceof Lord Newborough, well worth a visit, and where the domestics shew the greatest civility. A few miles to the northward, on the east coast of Caernarvon bay, is Dinas Dinlle, an old Roman station of artificial formation.

Caernarvon is remarkable for having been the first town in the principality that enjoyed the privilege of a royal charter, which was granted by Edward the First. The government of the place was rested in a mayor (who is always constable of the castle), two bailiffs, a recorder, burgesses, &c. before the passing of the municipal reform act; now it is under the provisions of that act. In conjunction with the boroughs of Conway, Criccieth. Nevin, Pwllheli, and Bangor, Caernarvon returns a member to parliament. The member in the present parliament is W. B. Hughes, Esq.

There are two banks, viz. Messrs. Williams & Co. commonly known as the old bank, and which is in connection with the banks of the same firm at Chester and Bangor; and a branch of the North and South Wales bank. Coaches pass several times each day between this place and Bangor, and the mail leaves every morning for Pwllheli through Clynog; and for Barmouth, through Beddgelert, Tremadoc, Tan-y-bwlch, and Harlech.

Caernarvon castle is now undergoing considerable repairs, under the authority of the Commissioners of Woods and Forests.

It is more than probable, that the town of Caernarvon had its origin in the Roman city of Segontium, about half a mile distant, and that it is not, as many have supposed, indebted for its name to Edward the First; forthe fort in Arvon, or in the hundred opposite to Anglesea, as the name indicates, would apply with equal propriety to the ancient city as to this more modern fortress. The town, however, there is no doubt, was the creation of Edward, and it was most probably formed from the ruins of the old station. The site of the ancient city of Segontium lies about half a mile south of Caernarvon, the ancient Roman station mentioned in the Itinerary of Antonius. This appears to have been the principal station that the Romans had in North Wales, all the rest being only subordinate stations. It received its name from the river Seiont, which rises in the lower lake of Llanberis, passes under the walls, and discharges itself into the Menai near Caernarvon castle. Its form was an oblong; and it appears originally to have occupied about six acres of ground. Not far hence was the fort which belongedto it: this was also of an oblong figure, and stood upon about an acre of ground. The walls are at present about eleven feet high, and six in thickness, and at each corner there has formerly been a tower. A chapel, said to be founded by Helen, daughter of Octavius, Duke of Cornwall, and a well which bears her name, are amongst the ruins still pointed out. The chapel was standing little more than a century ago. The old Roman road from the station of Dinas Dinorwic, in Llanddeiniolen, to Dinas Dinlle, on the shore of Caernarvon bay, lay through Caernarvon. Both stations are worth the attention of the antiquary.

Chester

Denbigh

7½

Holywell

London

212

Mold

St. Asaph

Caerwys, formerly a market town, with the parish of the same name, contains about 1000 inhabitants, being situated on the high road leading from Holywell to Denbigh, through the beautiful Vale of Clwyd. Caerwys has the most considerable fairs for cattle, sheep, pigs, and horses, in all the country, though its markets have long since failed. The market-house still remains, but it has been converted, time out of mind, into a dwelling-house. It is close to the cross; to theS. W.the arches are yet plainly to be seen, though filled up; and the remains of an erect south dial are yet distinctly to be seen in the south wall.

A few hundred yards to the west, is a most beautiful dingle, known by the name of Maesmynan Wort, offering a pleasant ramble to the admirer of nature and the botanist. Near the place where the brook, which runs through this dingle by Maesmynan House, empties itself into the Wheeler, was formerly the residence of Llywelyn ab Gruffydd, the last native prince of Wales: a cottage, now called Pandy, shews the place where the prince resided.

Among the towns of the Principality, this was formerly a place of great renown, but its glory has faded away, and nought remains to evince its ancient consequence but its name. This is a compound of the two words,Caer, a city, andgwŷs, a summons, notifying its having been a place of judicature. The assizes for the county were held in the town of Caerwys tillabout the middle of the seventeenth century, when they were removed to Flint; the goal is yet remaining, though converted into a dwelling-house, called Yr hên Gaol. This still continues to be one of the contributory boroughs for the return of a member to parliament. Mr. Pennant, upwards of fifty years ago, describes Caerwys as a “town mouldering away with age.” The chief boast of this town was its being theolympiaof North Wales, the theatre where the British bards poured forth their extemporaneous effusions,

“In thoughts that breathe, and words that burn;”

and where the honoured minstrels awakened

“Their harps to soul-enchanting melody,And gave to rapture all their trembling strings.”

Here were held the ancientEisteddvodau, or congresses of bards and minstrels, where judges presided, appointed by special commission from the Princes of Wales previous to the conquest, and from the Kings of England after that event. These arbiters were bound to pronounce justly and impartially on the talents of the respective candidates, and grant degrees according to merit. The bards were formed into a college, the members of which had particular privileges to be enjoyed by none but such as were admitted to their degrees, and licensed by the judges. The last commission granted by royal authority for holding this court of Apollo seems to have been in the 9th of Elizabeth, when Sir Richard Bulkeley, knt. and certain other persons were empowered to make proclamation in the towns of North Wales, that all persons intending to follow the profession of bards, &c. should appear before them at Caerwys on a certain day, in order to give proofs of their talents in the science of music, and to receive licenses to practise the same. The meeting was numerous, and fifty-five persons were admitted to their degrees. From this period, these meetings were discontinued at Caerwys and throughout the Principality: the minstrel ceased to be considered a venerable character in England, and our monarchs looked, probably, with equal contempt on the bards of Wales. Thus neglected and despised, the Eisteddvodau dwindled to nothing, and reposed in oblivion for many years.

Towards the close of the last century, some spirited Welsh gentlemen, who had the honour of their national harmony and literature at heart, determined to revive a meeting likely topreserve and encourage that music and language, the excellence of which has for ages been enthusiastically admired by their countrymen. In the spring of 1798, their resolution was carried into effect; and an Eisteddvod was held at Caerwys, the ancient place of meeting. Since this period, Eisteddvodau have been frequent in different parts of the Principality.

Bangor

14½

Beddgelert

Caernarvon

Cerniogau Mawr

Ffestiniog

Llanberis

Llanrwst

Menai Bridge

Capel Curig is most beautifully situated on the London and Holyhead road. From its vicinity to Snowdon and other mountains of note in this part of the Principality, and to several of the first lakes in North Wales, it has been for a long time much frequented by tourists; and since the diversion of the great Holyhead road through Nant Ffrancon, and the erection of a spacious hotel here by the late Lord Penrhyn, has become a place of fashionable resort, and during the summer season is visited by many families of distinction. A new line of road from this place to Caernarvon, through the pass of Llanberis, at the foot of Snowdon, has lately been opened, affording a more direct communication with the interior of the counties of Caernarvon and Merioneth.

In this vale there is a lovely variety both of wood and water. The name is derived from its chapel, dedicated to a Welsh saint called Curig, situate a short distance from the inn. He is mentioned in an old Welsh poem, which, however, only intimates his order, and nothing more is at present known of him.

Capel Curig is situated in a district abounding with mineral wealth. A great quantity of calamine has been obtained here, and in the vicinity is found the broad primitive rock called serpentine. Near a place called Bryn Gwaliau, between Capel Curig and Llanrwst, there are some remains of a Roman edifice, a great part of which has been removed for building materials: one of the apartments was found by Mr. Lysons to be sixty feet by twenty in dimensions, and another eighteen feet six inches square, in which latter were several short square pillars of stone, similar to those of the hypocaust near the Feathers hotel in Chester.

Behind the inn at Capel Curig westward are two lakes connected by a stream, on which a boat is kept, and frequently employed by visitors in aquatic excursions. At the foot of the lake there is an ancient rustic bridge, from which, as well as from the lake, is a fine view of old Snowdon and his proud associates.—At a short distance from the hotel southward, rises the mountain of

Whose height is 2878 feet: it is exceedingly precipitous, especially on that side towards Bettws-y-Coed, and the summit is thickly strewed with loose fragments. From this commanding station is a most magnificent view of the mountains of Snowdonia, of nine different lakes, and “ocean’s dim immensity.” The distance from the inn to the summit is about three miles and a half.—Beneath Moel Siabod, towards the east, and about five miles from Capel Curig, is

Said to have been built about the year 500. It is situated on a high rock, inaccessible on one side, and consists of two square towers, one 40 feet by 25, the other 31 feet by 20, and a court in the middle. This old ruin, entirely enclosed by mountains, built probably by some of the princes of North Wales, though its original founder and the time of its erection are unknown. Iorwerth Drwyndwn made this castle his residence, and his son, Llywelyn the Great, is said to have been born at this place. It was a fortress of considerable importance to the Welsh, but a few decaying relics now serve to mark the site of its former power and grandeur. Recent investigations render it probable that this was the last stronghold in North Wales that held out against Edward the First. In the royal roll of expenditure of that period, appear items of payments to an earl, a knight, and a squire, for bringing news to the Queen, at Rhuddlan, where the army of reserve was stationed whilst Edward was pursuing his successes in the Snowdonian mountains, of the reduction of this fortress; and the date corresponds with the close of the resistance and capture of David, the brother of Llywelyn. The village of Dolwyddelan stands within about a mile of the castle, and consists of only a few small cottages.

Three miles and a half from Capel Curig, on the left of the road toward Bettws, is the celebrated cataract of

(Or the Waterfall of the Swallow.) The scenery around this truly beautiful and picturesque fall, formed by the little river Llugwy, is truly grand; the water at the top is in one body, but soon becomes broken into many streams, dashing impetuously over large masses of rock, which impede its progress, down a rugged chasm of sixty feet wide at the broadest part, The high banks of the ravine are wooded, the trees hanging beautifully over the torrent, and the ground is richly carpetted with mosses and various wild flowers. From the upper part of the wood, near the head of the fall, there is a very good view of the descending flood; a path from the high road leads to the fall, and a little wicket gate has been placed in the wall on the road side, for the convenience of visitors who may wish to obtain a view of this sublime scene, which, although contiguous to the road, is so obscured in the wood, that the traveller will almost certainly pass it unawares, unless he makes timely enquiry: it may, however, be discovered by a summer-house which has lately been built on the top of a mountain directly over the fall.

About four miles from Capel Curig, on the Bangor road, is situated

From whence issues the river Ogwen. This lake is well stocked with excellent trout of a peculiar colour and flavour, surpassing in these respects all fish found in the Caernarvonshire lakes; they are of a bright yellow cast in the water, though when eaten they have a fine salmon colour; they are easily taken with the fly. The surplus water of this lake discharges itself at the western end, through a chasm in the rocks, tumbling in three noble cataracts down a height of about one hundred feet, called the Falls of Benglog, which are concentrated into a bed in the luxuriant and beautifully green meadows of

(Or the Beaver’s Hollow), so called from having been the resort of those animals. This is a romantic and tremendous glen, destitute of wood, and even of cultivation, except the narrow slip of a meadow which lies along its bottom. The fantastic piles of rocks which compose its sides, rise abruptly from theirbase, and stretch their barren points into the clouds. The Holyhead and London road passes through the whole extent.

In 1685, part of a rock, forming one of the impending cliffs, became so undermined by wind and rain, that loosing its hold, it fell in several immense masses, and in its passage down a steep and craggy cliff, dislodged some thousands of other stones. The largest piece of the falling rock continued its motion through a small meadow, and rested on the further side of the river Ogwen. In the winter of 1831, another part of the rock gave way, when upwards of one thousand tons fell from near the summit of Benglog, a little below the Ogwen cataracts; part rolling straight across the road, fell into the valley and river at the bottom; while another part having acquired a less momentum, rested on the road; the intercourse of travellers was for some time impeded, although one hundred miners were engaged in clearing the surface of the road. A gentleman from the vale of Llanrwst had just passed along in his carriage, on his way to Bangor, when the terrific sound of the dissolving mountain fell upon his astonished ear.

The mountains at the upper end of this vale form a scene singularly grand; on each side the hollow appears guarded by a huge conical rock, Trivaen on the right, and Braich-dû on the left. These, with the Glyder-vach and the Glyder-vawr, and some other mountains, fill up the distance, and apparently close the vale.

Near this place, beside a little gothic cottage, is a small hone quarry, Y Trivaen, which received its name from three tall stones standing in an upright position on its summit, and from below had the exact resemblance of three men. Of these only two remain.

One mile from Ogwen lake, in a deep valley, lies a dark pool, called

The gloomy horrors of the surrounding scenery exceed even those of Ogwen; the encircling cliffs are overhanging, broken, and dark; in one part the whole mountain is rent asunder, and the chasm of Twll dû (or the Black Cleft) gapes between the terrific masses. The solitude of Cwm Idwal proved favourable to the perpetration of a deed of blood, and it was here that young Idwal, the infant heir of Prince Owen Gwynedd, was treacherously assassinated, by order of his foster-father Nefydd, to whose care his father had consigned him.

Miss Costello gives the following description of this romantic region:—

“We were not induced to linger very long in the slate quarries, being more desirous to make ourselves acquainted with the undisturbed nature which invited us on the way to Capel Curig.

“The Vale of Nant Ffrancon is wild and stupendous in the extreme; it is an extensive marshy valley, filled with peat, whose black masses are piled in all directions in stacks; numerous alleys filled with the water which drains from it, are cut through the turf on whose surface the graceful cotton plant waves its feathery and snowy tresses, covering the swampy ground, and lending it beauty; numerous water flowers of bright colour give some life to the scene, which would otherwise be inexpressibly dreary. Huge masses of crumbling rocks bind in the narrow valley, and assume the strangest and most grotesque shapes, as though the visions of the Welsh bard, Davydd ap Gwilym, were realized, and

“‘There were in every hollowA hundred wry-mouthed elves.’

“Indeed, the famous and dreaded family of the Ellyllon, who are fond of coming forth in mist and rain, seemed to have pursued and overtaken us just as we had nearly reached the gloomy, dark, and secluded lake of Ogwen. The clouds grew darker, and rolled in heavy masses through the valley, and down the sides of the hills—a chill and hollow wind rose and whistled fearfully along the pass—large drops of rain began to fall, and we thought there was no escape from one of those storms so frequent in these regions; but the spirits sulked themselves into good humour, and did not force us to choose the usual alternative of travellers who fall into their power, for they are said to insist on their taking the uncomfortable choice of three methods of continuing their journey: to go with them ‘above the wind, mid wind, or below the wind:’ the first is to be whirled above the tops of the mountains at more than rail-road speed; the last to be hurried along, through brakes and briars, against stones and amongst bogs; and the middle way, generally preferred by those who have experience in the freaks of these elves, is to accompany them at a moderate distance in the air just clearing every obstacle.

“We contrived to gain the shore of lake Ogwen unmolested by all the imps and demons, who seemed to have come on the wings of the blast from their modern retreat on the pedestalsof Penrhyn Castle, to visit the haunts where they dwelt in days of yore, before every rock was attacked for its mineral wealth as it is now. On the borders of this solemn lake, however, the miner’s hammer is unheard; all is solitary grandeur and gloomy sublimity: mountains are piled on each other, and appear to crowd together round the lake, pressing its dark waters into a small space, deep and generally still, though ruffled when we saw it, by the rushing wind that swept through the hollow of Nant Ffrancon.

“The river Ogwen issues from this lake, and the accumulated waters which its rocky basin is unable to contain force their way through a chasm in the rocks, and fall with tremendous force in three cataracts, called the Falls of Benglog.

“Solemn and silent as Ogwen appears, it is less fearful and solitary than another dark lake situated high up amongst the mountains in the vicinity, called Llyn Idwal, where, in the early times of Welsh history, it is recorded, that Idwal, the infant heir of Prince Owen Gwynedd, was drowned by the hand of his foster-father, when

“‘No human ear but Dunawt’s[87]heardYoung Idwal’s dying scream.’

“The cliffs that encircle this lake are split into a thousand fearful shapes, and a mighty chasm yawns between, called Twll dû, which is said to be the abode of the unquiet soul of the murderer and the howling and exulting demon who torments him for his hateful crime—a crime

“‘Most foul, strange, and unnatural.’

“No bird will ever dip his wing in that lake, nor pause near its waters.

“Nothing can exceed the horror of this spot: the breach in the black rock is like that produced by the Sword of Roland in the Pyrenees, but no cheering prospect of far lands opens through: here all is dark, fearful, and tremendously appalling.

“The Twll dû is sometimes called the Devil’s Kitchen; the waters of the lake rush impetuously through its chasm. In memory of the tragedy acted here, the fish, of which there was formerly a profusion, were all deprived, according to received tradition, of one eye, the left being closed: as there are now nofish in the lake, it is impossible to verify the truth of this legend.

“This neighbourhood is the chosen abode of demons and strange monsters; and once upon a time, it is said, that a hunter pursuing the chase in the valleys between these mountains saw suddenly, perched on a rock, an extraordinary animal, such as had never before been beheld. It was hunched like a buffalo, and was covered with tufts of hair which shone like gold. The daring hunter pursued it over every obstacle, till he had nearly reached the Twll dû, when he overtook and slew it; but he gained little by his exploit, for the animal bellowed so loud that the rocks split in all directions; and neither the huntsman nor his prey was seen afterwards.

“The pretty inn at Capel Curig is built of slate, walls and roof and flights of steps, all of a shining grey, contrasting oddly with its gay garden of roses which lies beneath. From this garden is a fine view of Snowdon and its lake, with mountain scenery of great sublimity on all sides. The graceful bridge over Gwyryd is a beautiful object in the distance: while Snowdon, Moel Siabod, and the three sister lakes linked together, which extend along this charming valley, lie all before the eye.”

Cerniogau

Corwen

Llanrwst

Pont-y-Glyn

4½

Ruthin

This is a pleasant village, so named from its being supposed to have been the abode of the Druids. In Camden’s time it was famed for some druidical remains. These ancient relics have long since been removed; they consisted ofcromlechsandkist vaens, or stone chests.

At Pen Gwerwyn, a hill about a mile to the east of the village, are some inconsiderable remains of a castle, of which tradition says that it once belonged to Caractacus. We are told that when he was routed by the Romans, he retreated to this castle for safety; but was, with his whole family, betrayed to the enemy, and sent prisoner to Rome, where he delivered that celebrated speech which is so familiar to all students of British history.

Capel Curig

Cerig-y-Druidion

Corwen

Ruthin

Cerniogau Mawr is a hamlet of three or four small houses, in an elevated situation, on the London and Holyhead mail-road. Five miles on the road to Llanrwst is Gallt-y-Gwy, a terrace of more than two miles long. To the east appears the beautiful deep vale of Llanrwst, with Conway in the termination.

Although this city is not strictly within the cognizance of our publication, yet its close proximity to North Wales, and the advantages which it offers as a starting point from which a tour of the Principality may be commenced, warrant us in devoting to it a passing notice. Chester abounds with objects of interest to the traveller; and its many antique relics of bygone ages never fail to excite the admiration of those who take pleasure in the quaint architecture, or historical memorials of former times.

Its old walls, its antique rows, its curiously carved and gable-ended houses, its venerable cathedral, its solemn towers, its abbey gates, the ruined Priory, and the time-worn church of St. John, may be enumerated among the more prominent vestiges of its antiquities. While its noble castle, its unrivalled Grosvenor Bridge, and the elegant lodge at the entrance of Eaton Park, are among the modern attractions which the tourist will examine with interest and delight; but to the description of which we shall not in this place devote a fuller notice, as they are more particularly alluded to elsewhere.

Llangollen

London

176

Oswestry

Ruabon

Chirk is pleasantly situated on the northern bank of the river Ceiriog, which, flowing through a small vale of great beauty, here separates the counties of Denbigh and Salop, and of course Wales and England. It is a very neat and clean village, and contains some highly respectable houses, and severalsubstantial and well-built cottages, having been greatly improved within the last few years by the late Mrs. Myddelton Biddulph, who, on coming into possession of the Chirk Castle estates, pulled down several dilapidated buildings, and erected others of modest and uniform appearance for her tenants, on more eligible sites. The Holyhead road, on both sides the village, has been widened and altered within the last few years, so as to avoid the irregularities and windings in its course. There are some coal mines in this parish, extensive lime works, and several large iron forges, which employ a great number of hands. The village has a good church, and in the yard are several remarkably old yew trees.

The Ellesmere canal enters this parish from Shropshire, and is conveyed across the vale of Chirk and the river Ceiriog by means of an aqueduct, two hundred and thirty yards long, consisting of ten arches, the piers of which are sixty-five feet high, and then immediately enters a tunnel two hundred and twenty yards long. On emerging from this subterranean passage, it proceeds on its course through the parish, and then enters another tunnel, soon after which it is carried over the vale of the Dee by the stupendous aqueduct of Pont-y-Cyssylltau. About one mile and a half to the west of the village is

proudly situated on an eminence, backed by the Berwyn mountains. It is a venerable quadrangular embattled structure, defended by a low massive tower at each corner, and another in the centre of the north front, where is the principal entrance, under an arched gateway guarded by a portcullis, into a square area of considerable dimensions, round which the various apartments are ranged: on the east side of this area extends a low embattled corridor, leading into the principal apartments, which were greatly altered, modernised, and embellished by the late Mrs. Biddulph, within the last few years; but the old entrance to the hall is by a flight of steps on the north side of the area. The picture gallery, at the south end of which is the chapel, is 100 feet in length by 22 in width, and contains some good portraits and other paintings.

Chirk castle is supposed to have been built in the year 1013, and was an extremely strong fortification. The front is about250 feet; and two persons abreast may parade the battlements with ease. It was besieged by the parliamentary forces, and considerably battered by the cannon of Cromwell. The repairs cost £80,000.

The park is extensive, and disposed with picturesque effect, the inequalities of its surface, and the declivity of the hill extending behind it and towards the north, having afforded a favourable scope for the arrangement of the trees and plantations. Near New Hall, which is described as an old seat of the Myddeltons, rebuilt many years ago as a farm-house, and surrounded by a moat, at the entrance into the park from Llangollen and Wrexham, stands a pair of iron gates, of the richest, most delicate, and exquisite workmanship, designed and executed by a common blacksmith.

The summit of the castle commands a wide expanse of great beauty and magnificence, offering to the naked eye an uninterrupted view into seventeen different counties. The river Ceiriog runs on the west side of the castle, through a deep and picturesque valley, remarkable in history as the scene of a sanguinary conflict in 1165, between the forces under Henry the Second and those of the Welsh under their brave Prince Owen Gwynedd, when the latter obtained a decisive victory, and compelled the Saxon monarch to seek safety in a retreat to his own territories.

In this neighbourhood are many ancient fortifications, the most noticeable of which is part of Offa’s dyke, thrown up as the boundary between the ancient Britons and the Saxons in 763.

This fine estate has been in possession of the Myddelton family since the beginning of the seventeenth century; the present possessor is Colonel Robert Myddelton Biddulph, Lord Lieutenant of Denbighshire, paternally descended from the Biddulphs of Ledbury, in Herefordshire.

One mile below the village of Chirk is also

the elegant seat of Lord Dungannon. It is delightfully situated on an elevation, and surrounded by extensive and beautiful plantations.

Caernarvon

Llanllyfni

Pwllheli

This beautiful village is situated on the turnpike-road, about equidistant between Caernarvon and Pwllheli. It has a remarkably fine gothic church, the tower of which rises very beautifully from among a verdant cluster of noble trees.

St. Beuno, the reputed uncle of St. Winifred, erected the church and a grand mausoleum, now called St. Beuno’s chapel, which communicates with the church through a dark vaulted passage of six yards. In this chapel the remains of the pious founder, who lived in the seventh century, were deposited, and here also was his saintly niece interred. Her effigy in stone, mutilated like an Egyptian mummy, is still to be seen at this sacred edifice.

About a hundred yards from the church, adjoining the turnpike-road, is St. Beuno’s well, eight feet square, inclosed by a wall eight feet high. This well was much famed for healing the sick, and particularly for curing the rickets in children. Within the last fifty years, however, the well has ceased to attract so many devotees, though no doubt can exist as to the sanative virtues of its waters.

In the south-east corner of the church, near the altar-table there is an old wooden chest, belted with iron, and fastened to the floor, called “Cŷff Beuno” (Beuno’s chest), which was originally placed there to receive the offerings of money from the devotees of the saint, who repaired there for comfort and healing.

Between Clynog and Caernarvon is Glynllifon, the seat of Lord Newborough. It was recently destroyed by fire, and is now rebuilt.—Near the coast is Dinas Dinlle, a Roman station, 30 acres in extent, supposed to have been artificially raised by the soldiers of Agricola.

Rhaiadr Dibyn Mawr is a waterfall among the mountains, distant about two miles from Clynog.

Aber

Abergele

Bangor

14½

Caernarvon

Llandulas

Llanrwst

London

236

Penmaen Mawr

This is one of the most interesting and picturesque towns in North Wales. The approach to the town from the Denbighshire side of the river is remarkably interesting, and presents a fine view of the noble castle and the beautiful suspension bridge, with the adjacent mountain scenery, forming a glorious panorama of surpassing loveliness and sublimity. The pearl fishery of the Conway, which even yet, though shorn of its former importance, affords employment to several poor families, was celebrated in the time of the Romans. Pliny says that Julius Cæsar dedicated in one of the temples of Rome a breastplate set with British pearls, probably from this fishery. And in comparatively modern days, one of these pearls, presented to the Queen of Charles the Second by Sir R. Wynne, was honoured with a place in the royal crown, where probably it yet shines, in testimony of the loyalty of the Welshman. The British pearls are found in a shell-fish, called by Linnæusmyd margaritefera, the pearl muscle, peculiar to stony and rapid rivers.

The port of Conway is a dry harbour, frequented by a few coasting vessels; and the river is navigable up to the village of Trefriw, which is about twelve miles from its mouth. A quay extends along the east side of the town wall. The principal inns are the Castle and the Newborough Arms.

The castle, built in 1284, under the eye of Edward the First, by the architect, it is supposed, whom he employed in the erection of Caernarvon, is very justly regarded as one of the most beautiful fortresses in a country distinguished for the splendour and magnificence of its military structures. Though more extensive and better preserved, it somewhat resembles the castle of Falaise, in Normandy. Its base, however, is less wooded, and there is no brawling streamlet leaping, as there, from rock to rock, at its foot; but instead, a broad, majestic river, and a creek full at high water, swoop round two of its sides. The other two face the town. Within the walls are two spacious courts; and the external line of the fortificationscontains eight lofty towers, each with a slender turret, singularly graceful and elegant in form, springing from its summit.

The great hall on the right measures 130 feet long and 30 broad, and is lighted by six lancet-shaped windows, opening out upon the creek, and three pointed windows, of exquisite tracery, looking towards the ample court. Eight Gothic arches, four of which remain entire, supported the roof of this magnificent apartment. A lofty Norman arched window at each end, and two broad carved fire-places, completed the architectural decorations and appearances of the hall. The spacious hall was the scene of the Christmas revelries to which Edward and his queen invited the English nobility and their high-spirited dames, while the monarch was forging the chain that was for ever to enslave the prostrate Principality. The walls, on all sides, are covered with a green drapery of luxuriant ivy, and a meadow of grass lies in the open area of the courts. The warder’s duty is supplied by a whole tribe of crows, whose solemn parley is heard the instant a stranger’s foot approaches the domain they have usurped; and the ivied walls are nearly alive with blackbirds, and birds of all colour, whose notes resound for the live-long day throughout these otherwise deserted ruins. Two entrances, both contrived for security, led into the fortress; one by winding narrow stairs, up a steep rock, from the Conway, and terminating in a small advanced work before one of the castle-gates, covered by two round towers—the other towards the town, protected by similar works, with the addition of a drawbridge over a broad moat.

Notwithstanding its grandeur and importance, this castle makes no great figure in history. Soon after its erection, the royal founder was besieged in it by the Welsh, and the garrison nearly reduced to an unconditional surrender by famine. Finally, however, they were extricated from their perilous situation by the arrival of a fleet with reinforcements and provisions. In 1399, Richard the Second, then in Ireland, commanded the troops, raised in his behalf against the haughty Bolingbroke, to assemble at Conway, and their numbers were considerable; but the vacillation and feebleness of purpose of that monarch induced many of them to abandon him on his arrival; yet the remainder was still sufficient to have made head against the usurper, had not the king, who feared to fight his own battles, basely abandoned his followers, and rushed blindly into the snare laid for him by his enemies. During the civil wars,Conway Castle was at first held by Archbishop Williams for the king; but the warlike churchman, being superseded by the fiery Rupert in the command of North Wales, went over in dudgeon to the republican party, and personally assisted the gallant General Mytton in the reduction of the castle. While the republic flourished, this noble fortress was suffered to retain all its ancient grandeur undiminished; but on the restoration, a grant having been made of it, by the Stuart, to the Earl of Conway, its new possessor ordered his agent to remove the timber, iron, lead, and other valuable materials, and send them to Ireland, ostensibly for his master’s service, though it is generally supposed they were intended for his own use. A suitable fate attended this desecration of one of the finest structures of antiquity, the vessels which conveyed the materials being wrecked, and the whole of the property entirely lost.

This ancient castle is the fictitious scene of the drama of theCastle Spectre, and ofThe Bardof Gray.

The suspension bridge, by Mr. Telford, is constructed on the same principle as that of the Menai, though on a smaller scale, and presents an appearance singularly elegant, lying at the foot of the antique castle, and surrounded by scenery of the most picturesque description. It is 320 feet in length between the supporting towers, and 18 feet above high-water mark. The chains on the western side pass upwards of 50 feet under the castle, and are fastened in the granite foundations on which it is built. On the farther side they are bolted into an insular rock, which rises in the bed of the river, and forms the strait through which the gushing waters pass on their way to the sea.

The piers of the bridge, and the toll-house at the western extremity, are built in strict keeping with the architecture of the castle. An embankment, formed of hard clay, faced with solid masonry of stone, and stretching from the insular rock to the western shore of the county of Denbigh, a length of 671 yards, with a breadth of 30 feet, and an extreme elevation of 54 feet, exhibits one of the finest and firmestchausséesin the world.

The church, though ancient, contains scarcely anything worthy of notice, except the following inscription, engraved on a stone in the nave of the building, which, though found in Pennant and other tourists, is so curious as to deserve repetition: “Here lyeth the body of Nicholas Hookes, of Convey, gentleman, (who was the forty-first child of his father, Wm. HookesEsq. by Alice, his wife,) the father of twenty-seven children, who died the 27th day of March, 1637.” In the market-place is an old building called Plâs Mawr, which was erected more than two centuries ago. It is deserving the notice of the antiquarian. The town is surrounded by a very thick wall, strengthened by twenty-four towers, most of which remain in tolerable preservation.

Miss Costello seems to have been thoroughly enraptured with Conway, of which she says, “I think no description, however enthusiastic, can do justice to one of the most romantic and interesting spots that exists perhaps in Europe. Although the modern bridge, which carries the road across the river to the castle walls, looks, as it is of course, of a very different date from the antique structure, yet there is something so singular, so beautiful, and so aërial in a suspension bridge, that it can scarcely be thought out of character with the Moorish-looking towers and turrets to which it leads, which are as light and graceful as itself, in spite of their immense strength and power. With all the legends of supernatural buildings with which Wales abounds, it would not be difficult for the imagination to conceive that the Genii threw these delicate chains over the wide space that divides the castle from the opposite rocks, and thus obtained a triumph over the giant who kept the fortress. Both near and at a distance it has a beautiful effect, and is even more graceful than the surprising work over the Menai Straits.

“The castle, although on the shore of the broad river, which is here, at high water, half a mile wide, stands on a lofty rock, which forms the strong foundation of the fabric, and defends the town, which must however have been well capable of defence in itself, to judge by the huge walls which surround it, and which are still entire, and the enormous towers placed from distance to distance along their whole extent. The shape of the town is fancifully said to resemble a Welsh harp, to the form of which it really has much affinity; and as there are no suburbs nor a single straggling house beyond the allotted precincts, it is plainly defined and has a peculiarly striking aspect, quite unlike that of any other town I ever saw.

“In all lights and from all points the castle looks well: but the best view of it is perhaps from the opposite shore, where all its towers, and battlements, and minaret turrets, come out in great relief, particularly with a sunset sky behind them,when they stand forth most gorgeously. With the river full of water, and the sun going down red and glowing, as we saw it the first evening we arrived, nothing can be conceived more magnificent than the scene:

“‘Seem’d all on fire that castle proud,’

“with crimson and golden flames issuing from the lofty, dark walls. But when we beheld it in the morning, shining white, with the blue sky for its background, we could not decide at which hour it was most admirable; and again, whether by the light of a brilliant moon the mighty fortress, whose rents and defacements the favouring shade concealed, did not appear after all to the greatest advantage. * * *

“We were so delighted with the extreme beauty of the castle, and the quiet of this simple place, that we remained there ten days, in order to enjoy frequent strolls amongst the ruins, and visit some of the most interesting places near.”

We fully concur in the glowing encomiums which have been passed by the most intelligent tourists on the locality of Conway, which is doubtless one of the most attractive and interesting spots in the Principality.

From Conway, Mr. Bingley, the celebrated author, made an excursion round

a commot or hundred of Caernarvonshire, situated upon the side of the river opposite to Conway, and forming a considerable promontory into the Irish Sea. After crossing the river, and proceeding along the shore for about half a mile, the first object of attraction is

or Dinas Gonwy (or the Fort on the Conway), called by the common people, “Y Faer dre,” and by the English, Gannoc. The ruins of the ancient castle are situated on the summit of two small hills, near the shore. At a short distance is a circular watch-tower, said to have been built some time in the latter part of the seventeenth century.

Mr. Bingley next crossed the flat, and under theS.W.side of Llandudno rock, passed the shell of a large mansion, which some centuries ago was a palace belonging to the Bishop of Bangor; thence along the steep and slippery sides of the elevated down of Llandudno, for about two miles to the end ofthe promontory. Here the rocks are for the most part perpendicular, of amazing height. Many rare plants are found in this district.

About a mile from theN. E.side of the promontory is Llandudno church; and at a short distance is Eglwys Rhôs, celebrated as the last refuge of Maelgwyn Gwynedd, who fled hither to avoid thevâd velen(or yellow fever) which raged over a great part of Europe.

Not far distant isGloddaeth, one of the seats of the Hon. E. M. Ll. Mostyn, built by his ancestor, Sir Roger Mostyn, Bart. in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. The walks of Gloddaeth are remarkably beautiful. The house was famed for its library of ancient manuscripts, chiefly Welsh, which has been removed to Mostyn Hall. At the distance of a mile isBodysgallen, the seat of Miss Mostyn. It is a place of great antiquity; the situation is commanding, and finely shaded by venerable woods. Archbishop Williams, a native of Conway, who succeeded the illustrious Lord Bacon in the office of Lord High Chancellor of England, died at Gloddaeth,A.D.1650.

Another excursion made by Mr. Bingley was up the vale of Conway, leading on the road to Llanrwst. Having passed the village of Gyffin, he found the vale of Conway to afford many very interesting prospects.Caer Rhun(the Fort of Rhun) lies at the distance of five miles. It is a charming little village, on the western bank of the river, surrounded with wood. To this site has generally been assigned the ancient Roman Conovium. In the summer of 1801, the late Rev. H. D. Griffith had many apartments cleared, where were discovered several broken vases, dishes, &c. From the road, near the bridge, called Pont Porthlwyd, about eight miles from Conway, high up the mountain on the left, is a waterfall of very considerable height, called in the neighbourhood Rhaiadr Mawr (the great waterfall.) Mr. Bingley ascended along a winding path, which conducted him to the bed of the river, near the station, whence he saw it to the best advantage. The water runs from a pool among the mountains, called Llyn Eigiau. He pronounces this waterfall the grandest and most picturesque of any he had seen in North Wales.

For angling station, see Llanrwst.

Bala

Chester

Denbigh

Holyhead

Llangollen

London

193

Ruthin

Pentre Voelas

Corwen (the White Choir) is a small market-town on the London and Holyhead road, situated at the foot of the Berwyn mountains, on the bank of the Dee. The population (2199) is principally employed in agriculture. There is a good inn here, exhibiting the gigantic features of Owen Glyndwr, the renowned and formidable opponent of Henry the Fourth.

Within the church, under an arch on the north side of the altar, there is a very ancient coffin-lid, in high preservation, bearing the following inscription, “Hic jacet Jorwerth Sulien, vicarius de Corvaen; ora pro eo.” There is also a fine cross fixed in a circular stone to the west of the steeple. The name of Corwen, corrupted from Corvaen, is probably derived from the cross:cor, signifying a circle, andmaen, which is changed intovaenwhen joined withcor, is The Stone or Cross in the Circle.

The house of the celebrated Owen Glyndwr was situated in this parish, but not a vestige of it is now left: the site is marked by a clump of fir trees, on the left of the Llangollen road, about three miles from Corwen. At Rhug, within a mile and a half of the town, stands the elegant seat of Colonel Vaughan.—Rhagatt, the mansion of Edward Lloyd, Esq., is also situated in the parish, and within two miles of the town.

The roads in this district are excellent; the Shrewsbury and Holyhead mail runs through the town. There are also two good lines of road hence to Bala; that by Llandrillo leads through the vale of Edeyrnion, which is one of the most beautiful in Wales, the road very excellent, with scarcely a hill in its course; the other by the Druid, 12 miles, commands a very fine view of Bala lake, and the surrounding hills. There is likewise a very good road, 12 miles, to Ruthin.

Upon the Berwyn mountains, behind the church, is a place called Glyndwr’s Seat, whence is a most charming and extensive prospect, which may be reached without fatigue. The rich and delightful vale of Corwen expands beneath, with the Dee in the centre. Here Glyndwr might view nearly forty square miles of his own land.

Near to Corwen is the site of an ancient British encampment, called Caer Drwyn; it is on the summit of a hill, and protected by a circular wall, about one mile in circumference: and within are the ruins of a circular fort. It is supposed to be one of the chain of posts from Dyserth to Cynwyd, and formed in olden times a stronghold. Owen Gwynedd occupied it in the days of Henry the Second.

The tourist remaining at Corwen, who has any relish for angling, may readily obtain all the necessary tackle in the town, at a low charge, and will find good fishing between Corwen and Llan-St.-Ffraid bridges, two or three miles, and at Llandrillo, about five miles from Corwen.

This district was visited by a most desolating flood, caused by heavy rains, in the summer of 1846.

Beddgelert

Caernarvon

London

240

Pwllheli

Cricaeth, a little borough town, contributory to Caernarvon, with 811 inhabitants, is very irregularly built. Except the remains of its small castle, it contains nothing which can claim the attention of the traveller. This ruin stands on a rising ground, at the end of a long neck of land, jutting into the sea. The entrance into it is between two round towers; the others being all square. Edward the First is said to have founded this castle; and it was once the residence of Howel-y-Fwyall, who captured the king of France at the battle of Poictiers. It is stated that the Welsh warrior struck off the head of the king’s horse with a battle-axe, and then secured the monarch. The event is thus recorded by one of the native bards:—

“Pan roddoddY ffrwyn ymhen Brenin Ffrainc.”

The Black Prince made Howel constable of this castle, granting him a guard of eighty yeomen at the royal charge, and a mess of meat to be served up daily before his pole-axe.

The church, dedicated to St. Catherine, is a spacious structure, but in a very neglected state.

From the eminence on which the castle stands, is a beautiful view across Cardigan bay towards Harlech, where is seen its fine old castle, backed by the high and distant mountains of Merionethshire.

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