Chapter IV (2)

The spearman 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: {154}
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 no where 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 Boyntirion, 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 Diras Envys, 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 Nanlley 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 {158a} as our conductor over the mountain, who entertained us much with displaying, in strong colours, the tricks and impositions of his brother guides. {158b}

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 Paris 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, which this height must naturally be exposed to.

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, repose 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 Llandigai, 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 fireside, 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_, {168} 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. {170a} 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; {170b} 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 impeding 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 {173a} 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 {173b} 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 Lord Uxbridge promises to become still more populous and extensive.

In Bangor-street, is the Uxbridge Arms hotel, a large and most respectable inn; where, as well as at 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 {174} 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 1st. 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 1st., 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 Anglesey, 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. {178} 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. {179} 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 encroachment 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 Paris mountain, the property of the Marquis of Anglesea and the Rev. Mr. Hughes, we again returned to the hotel at Caernarvon; purposing to stay the following day (Sunday), for the purpose of making a strict enquiry into the religious sect, settled here, and in many parts of Wales, called Jumpers. {181}

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) {183} 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, and indeed 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 steep 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, with no other particular ornament to distinguish it from a common English parish church. There are, however, several bishops {185} 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 in 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.