Chapter IV (3)

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

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

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

“When on entering the Straits,” {189} says a recent author, “the bridge is first seen, suspended as it were in mid air, and confining the view of the fertile and richly-wooded shores, it seems more like a light ornament than a massy bridge, and shows little of the strength and solidity which it really possesses. But as we approached it nearer, whilst it still retained its light and elegant appearance, the stupendous size and immensity of the work struck us with awe; and when we saw that a brig, with every stick standing, had just passed under it,—that a coach going over appeared not larger than a child’s toy, and that foot-passengers upon it looked like pigmies, the vastness of its proportions was by contrast fully apparent.” The whole surface of the bridge is in length 1,000 feet, of which the part immediately dependent upon the chains is 590 feet, the remaining distance being supported by seven arches, four on one side and three on the other, which fill up the distance from the main piers to the shore. These main piers rise above the level of the road 50 feet, and through them, two archways, each 12 feet wide, admit a passage. Over the top of these piers, four rows of chains, the extremities of which are firmly secured in the rocks at each end of the bridge, are thrown; two of them nearly in the centre, about four feet apart, and one at each side. The floor of the road is formed of logs of wood, well covered with pitch, and then strewn over with granite broken very small, forming a solid body by its adhesion to the pitch impervious to the wet. A light lattice work of wrought iron to the height of about six feet, prevents the possibility of accidents by falling over, and allows a clear view of the scenery on both sides, which can be seen to great advantage from this height. Having expressed our admiration of the skill evident in the construction, at once so simple and so useful, and having satisfied our curiosity on the top, we descended by a precipitous path to the level of the water, and gazed upwards with wonder, at the immense flat surface above us, and its connecting gigantic arches. The road is 100 feet above high water, and the arches spring at the height of 60 feet from abutments of solid masonry, with a span of 52 feet. These abutments taper gradually from their base to where the arch commences, and immense masses as they are, show no appearance of heaviness; indeed, taking the whole of the Menai Bridge together, a more perfect union of beauty with utility cannot be conceived. It has been erected to bear a weight upon the chains of 2,000 tons; the whole weight at present imposed is only 500, leaving an available strength of 1,500 tons; so that there is an easy remedy for a complaint which has been made of its too great vibration in a gale of wind, by laying additional weight upon it. The granite of which the piers and arches are built, is a species of marble, admitting a very high polish; of this the peasantry in the neighbourhood avail themselves, and every one has some specimen of polished marble ready to offer the tourist. There is so much magnificence, beauty, and elegance, in this grand work of art, that it harmonizes and accords perfectly with the natural scenery around, and though itself an object of admiration, still in connection it heightens the effect of the general view.

MONA, OR ANGLESEA, {191}

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

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

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

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

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

BEAUMARIS,

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

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

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

The beautiful road of four miles and a half, along the shore of the Menai to Bangor Ferry, was made at the expense of Lord and Lady Bulkeley in 1804: it cost about £3000, and, when completed, was presented to the public and has since been maintained at his lordship’s expense. A road possessed of greater picturesque beauty is not to be found in Britain.

The church is kept in repair by his lordship, to which he has presented an excellent organ, a set of elegant communion plate, a clock, and a peal of six fine toned bells; together, costing about £1200. He has also given a good house to the rector for the time being. The national school, as well as the minister’s house, was built by public subscription, on land given by Lord Bulkeley; and the master’s and mistress’s salaries have since been paid by him and his lady.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

BINGLEY’S NORTH WALES.

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

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

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

LLANELIAN

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

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

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

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

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

AMLWCH,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

DARWIN.

From hence we proceeded to

HOLYHEAD,

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

[Picture: North Wales Map]

In addition to these, government has placed steam packets on this station: the two I have had the pleasure of seeing are the finest and most complete vessels of their tonnage I ever beheld. Each vessel has two cabins, beautifully fitted up, light and airy; and every thing appears to have been attended to, that can either add to the comfort or safety of the passengers: expense has not been spared for that which was useful, and conducive to safety; and the equipment having been superintended by Captain Rogers, an experienced officer, on the Holyhead station, nothing has been misapplied. The passage is effected in from five and a half to seven hours, a distance of fifty-five miles; and the letters are delivered in Dublin from London in the short space of forty hours.

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

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

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

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

In returning from Holyhead, we stopped at Gwyndy, or the Wine House, about twelve miles and a half from the Head and the Ferry.—Mr. Bingley gives the following account of the origin of its name: “About the reign of Edward the Fourth, and for some years subsequent to that period, the gentlemen of Wales frequently invited their friends, in large parties, to exercise in wrestling, tournaments, and other feats of activity: but as these meetings, in consequence of the numbers invited, were usually attended with great expense, they were always held in the house of some neighbouring tenant, who was supplied with wine from the lord’s cellar; this was sold to the visitors, and his master received the profits. These houses were denominated Gwyndu, or wine houses; and, from this circumstance, the present place had its name.”

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

PENRHYN CASTLE,

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

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

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

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

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

“Fill the horn with foaming liquor,
Fill it up, my boy, be quicker;
Hence away despair and sorrow,
Time enough to sigh to-morrow.
Let the brimming goblet smile,
And Ednyfed’s cares beguile.
Gallant youth, unus’d to fear,
Master of the broken spear;
And the arrow-pierced shield,
Brought with honour from the field.
Like an hurricane is he
Bursting on the troubled sea.
See their spears distain’d with gore,
Hear the din of battle roar,
Bucklers, swords, together clashing,
Sparkles from their helmets flashing,
Hear ye not their loud alarms?
Hark! they shout—to arms! to arms!
Thus were Garthen’s plains defended,
Melor fight, began and ended:
There two princes fought; and there
Was Morach Vowran’s feast exchang’d for rout and fear.” {208}

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At the siege of Montgomery, in the reign of Henry the Third, Llewelyn ap Iorwerth took prisoner a potent baron, named William de Breos, whom he conducted to this castle. William, who was both accomplished and handsome, gained not only the friendship of his conqueror, but likewise the affections of his wife, {217} with whom he ventured to carry on an intrigue. This not having been discovered by Llewelyn till after the baron had been ransomed, he condescended to resort to a breach of hospitality, for the purpose of getting him again into his power.

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

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

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

To which the princess answered:

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

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

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

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

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