Chapter C: W. W. Wynne, Esq. M.P. Llangedwin (4)

There are three different Routs by which Strangers are generally conducted up this celebrated Mountain: the best, and most usual, is that commencing between the New Inn and Dolbadarn Castle, near the Bridge, and following the course of the River for about a quarter of a mile, and passing very near the Waterfall called Caunant Mawr, then turning to the left, and pursuing the Copper Sledge path-way, along the South slope of the ridge of Hills between the upper vale of Llanberis and Cwm Brwynog, as far as the Sheep-fold, and the Copper Mine at the upper end of Waun Cwm Brwynog; then turning to the left, (or North) and winding up the side of the slope or ridge, cross over till we are in view of the Llanberis pass, above the Church. During the first part of our progress, the view was confined, but here on this mountain flat, the prospect is extensive, particularly to the North West, where the greatest part of the Island of Anglesey is visible; and to the East, a portion of Denbighshire may be seen, between the mountains. We now begin to ascend Llechwedd y Re, the formidable slope above Llyn du yr Arddu, or otherwise, Clogwyn Coch, and Clogwyn du’r Arddu, the two precipices impending over that once black, but _now green_ Pool; (from the effects of the Copper) after this last ascent is surmounted, the progress is easy, and the rise very gradual, for upwards of half a mile, till we join the Bettws, or Quellyn Copper Ore path, near Bwlch Glas gap, before mentioned; from thence to the peak the distance is something more than a quarter of a mile, and the ascent easy. There was a circular wall formerly on the summit, (which is not much more than from six to eight yards square) to shelter the visitors from the cold, but the Bethgelert Guide, named Lloyd, having collected a sum of money, (about five Pounds as it is supposed) from different Gentlemen; in order to build a small hut, or shed, he made use of the Stones for that purpose; but the miserable building which he erected, and which is nothing more than a heap of stones piled together in the form of a small Stack of Corn, could not have cost him more than twenty or thirty Shillings, and is on the east side, about ten yards below the _apex_; but at present is of no use, as it is nearly coming down:—Here it is usual for Strangers to leave their names inscribed on the ruins of this small Building.—Small stones are frequently found near this spot, bearing the impression of different Shells. From this elevated situation may be seen, in clear weather, the Wicklow Hills, on the West; the Isle of Man, and the Cumberland and Westmoreland Mountains, on the North and North East; and a part of South Wales to the South West: The best time for such a view are the months of June and July, when it will be necessary to be on the Mountain before Sun-rise, as mists and fogs generally collect soon after.—It would not however, be advisable for persons of a tender habit, or delicate constitution, to attempt such an arduous undertaking, particularly in the night: at the same time it may be safely asserted, that no person who is equal to the task, will ever have occasion to regret having ascended Snowdon, even in cloudy weather; particularly if the Sun should occasionally appear, as in this aerial region the scenery and the views are perpetually shifting and changing; and many have been known to prefer, a partially cloudy or misty, to a hot sultry day, (though tolerably clear) for such an excursion. We shall here beg leave to introduce some extracts from a Letter received by a young Lady, in which her Friend gives a very lively and interesting description of the pleasure she enjoyed on a visit to Snowden, in such weather as that above described: “My dear Friend,—I considered myself particularly unfortunate in not finding you at home, during my visit to North Wales; especially as I remained so long in your immediate neighbourhood. Perhaps you may recollect telling me, with what (I must confess) I _then_ thought a prejudiced affection for your native scenery; ‘that no season or weather, could deprive Snowdon of its powers of amazing, and delighting.’ The truth of your remark forced itself into my mind, during two successive days, on which I ascended its lofty summit. The accounts of those two days, and the light in which my English feelings regarded your Country scenes, will, I trust, not be uninteresting. The morning destined for our first attempt, was ushered in by one of those intense fogs, which portend a sultry day; the late learned, worthy, and much respected Counsellor Dancey, was one of the party, and several Ladies and Gentlemen: I despair of conveying to your mind, any idea of the high-wrought expectations with which I commenced the ascent of this King of Hills, and never were expectations more fully answered. The variety, the constant succession of magnificent scenes, that gradually opened to our view, are absolutely indiscribable. You may conceive a _group_, (for we found other parties on the summit) of apparently aerial beings, standing on an elevated peak, literally above the clouds; for the glorious source of day, shed his Beams upon our heads, while our feet were enveloped in mist.—Picture to yourself the Sea, when agitated by a storm, suddenly arrested by an intense Frost, for such was, absolutely, the appearance, the congregated mists and clouds, represented to our astonished and enraptured eyes. In the course of about ten minutes, or a quarter of an hour, this irregular surface of waves began to break up and separate; and like an immense Army, sent advanced guards, and columns in different directions. The commotion, at the first breaking up, and the regular movements afterwards, were grand and magnificent beyond description. After these advanced guards (which were generally fleecy, transparent clouds, with fringes and festoons hanging in different fantastic shapes, and reflected Beams of the Sun, throwing golden tints upon their edges) came the main Army. Presently through the mist, several huge Mountains reared their Leviathan backs, and immense projections, appearing like so many capes and promontaries, stretching out into an endless Ocean; while other rocks assumed the appearance of small conical Islands, in this resplendent abyss. In a short time, these advancing Armies regularly encamped, or _bovouack’d_ for the night, in the different passes, and excavations of the mountains; this was not all, for as we descended, while these beautifully transparent mists were quietly at rest, some hundreds of yards below us, we suddenly beheld huge gigantic shadows, thrown athwart the immense abyss. This was about fire in the evening, for with a reluctance similar to that of our great progenitors, in leaving Paradise, we lingered on the summit some hours. We stopped and gazed, our sticks and umbrellas were converted, by the reflection, into Goliah of Gath’s tremendous club or weaver’s beam;—we began to brandish these weapons, and to our great amusement and astonishment, our lengthened bulky shadows gently imitated our different movements. At length we tore ourselves from these grand and sublime scenes, and arrived by the dusk of the evening at the pleasant little Inn of Llanberris. Having been so much delighted the first, I was easily induced (undeterred by heat and fatigue) to join a party of friends, who were going up the following day;—about half way, we had a fine distant view of Anglesey, with the indentures formed in its coast by the Sea; a thick mist overtook us, and shut the fairy scene from our eyes.—We reached the summit completely enveloped in clouds, which gradually opening, the Elyssian Vale of Nanthwynant burst upon the sight; the clouds soon covered it again, but we were amply compensated by a view of an extensive tract of Sea and Land, terminated by the faintly marked outline of South Wales.—Soon another opening presented the romantic region of Capel Curig, which with the variety of Lakes that appeared on every side, with the Sun shining upon many of them, afforded a most enchanting _coup de œil_.—At this moment the attention of the party was most forcibly arrested by the appearance of our shadows reflected upon the mists, (but not so lengthened as the day before, as it was earlier in the afternoon) and encircled by three Rainbows of the most vivid and distinct colours.—The effect was beyond description. It was then that the thought of the great Creator of all these Wonders rushed upon the mind. What an awful, incomprehensible Being must He be, who with one word, formed these grand and magnificent scenes, and at whose nod, they shall crumble into dust!

These are thy glorious works! Parent of good,
Almighty; thine this universal frame,
Thus wondrous fair; Thyself how wondrous then!”

Parties generally take cold meat with them, and a bottle either of Wine, or Spirits, and dine at the Spring or Well near the side of the Quellyn Copper path, about two hundred yards below Bwlch Glas gap, where the Copper Ore Bin is situated.

Wyddfa, (pronounced Withva) is the Welsh name of Snowdon; and it is sometimes, though improperly, called Eryri, which appears to have been the general appellation in former days, of the whole range of mountains from Conway to Clynog: Two different derivations are generally given of the word Eryri, one is Eryr, an Eagle; and the other Eira, or Eiri, Snow; which is the most correct we will not pretend to determine, but it appears that the person who originally translated the word, considered the latter to be the genuine etymology. The distance from Dolbadern Castle to the summit, may be about six miles; two to the Turbary flat in Waun Cwm Brwynog, two to Clogwyn Coch Copper mine, and two from thence to the top. There are two other routs from the Village, which ought not to be attempted except by active young men; one up the steep declivity just above the Church, and the other through Hafn (pronounced Haven) Mawr, near the Old Bridge, (Bont Vawr). The height of Snowdon, above High-water mark at Carnarvon, is 3591 Feet.

Llanberis, in the Commot of Isgorfai, and Hundred of Arfon, is a small Rectory, discharged from paying tenths, and valued in the King’s Books at £4 18_s._ 9_d._ Patron, the Bishop of Bangor; Church, dedicated to St. Peris. The number of inhabited Houses in the Parish, in 1811, was 86; and the resident Population 438. Peris, to whom the Church is dedicated, is stated in our Welsh MSS. (Bonedd y Saint) to have been a Cardinal from Rome, who together with Padarn, (Paterninus) another Welsh Saint of congenial habits and disposition, it is probable, withdrew from the world to this secluded spot, as a place well adapted, according to the custom and mistaken ideas of those dark ages, for religious retirement and devotion: Peris fixed upon the upper Vale, which is still called Nant Peris; and Padern chose the lower, distinguished in Leland’s time by the name of Nant Padarn; as the properest situation for the erection of their respective cells.—Eglwys Padarn, (the ruins of which many persons now living recollect to have seen) was situated on a meadow, near the lower Lake, called Llyn Padarn, on the left of the road in going from the Inn to the old Castle. Cadvan, another religious devotee, came from Armorica into Wales about the same time, and became Abbot of Bardsey. The upper Lake is about a mile in length, and a quarter wide, and is said to be twenty Fathoms deep particularly near a place called Diphwys:—and the lower Lake, called Llyn Padarn, is about three miles in length, and upwards of half a mile broad; both the Pools abound in Trout, and Char; Salmon are also frequently taken in them. Not far from the Church is the Saint’s Well, where a large Trout has for ages been exhibited to Strangers; his appearance is considered a fortunate omen, and his non-appearance the contrary; the present fish is about 20 or 30 years old; the wonderful Pass, and two Cromlech’s, about two miles above the Church, are well worth examining.—Some hopes are entertained, that the beauties of this little Vale, will in time be accessible to strangers, by the opening of a good Carriage Road this way to Capel Curig. An Old Woman, many years ago, is said to have made use of the hollow, under one of the before mentioned Cromlechs, (or fragments of Rocks) as her dairy, during the Summer months. The distance from the Village to Capel Curig, is about 8 miles; and to Bethgelert, through Nanthwynant, 11 or 12. The upper end of the Pass, is called Gorphwysva, or the Resting Place. There are three other Lakes in the Parish, besides those already mentioned, viz. Llynn Cwm Dwthwch, in which there are very fine flavored trout, and on which a small boat is kept for the use of anglers, by Pierce Jones, the Innkeeper. This pool is the source of the river Hwch, flowing near the Castle.—Llyn y Cwn, to the North, and Llyn Cwm Ffynnon, to the N.E. of the village; in the former are some aquatic plants, particularly the LOBELLIA DORTMANNA—SUBULARIA AQUATICA—ISOETES LACUSTRIS; and Twll Du, below it, is the habitat of numerous and rare plants: a great variety may also be discovered on and about Allt wen, above Mr. Smith’s Cottage, between the two Lakes, as well as on Clogwyn Du’r Arddu, at the upper end of Waun Cwm Brwynog, and on Clogwyn y Garnedd, which is the tremendous precipice immediately under Snowdon, to the North. The old Copper Mines, (Shafts, Levels, &c.) near the S.E. end of the upper Lake, also claim a visit, particularly from every Mineralogist and Geologist. At some distance below Llynn Du’r Arddu, nearly at the upper end of Waun Cwm Brwynog, may be observed a huge black Stone, or fragment of a Rock, called Y Maen Du yn yr Arddu; under or upon which, according to the popular superstition, if a person sleep a night, he will awake either a Poet or a Madman. The Gimlet Rock, near Pwllheli, the Studwall, (or St. Tudwal,) Islands,—the Promontory of Lleyn, (or Langanum Promontorium)—and Bardsey Island, at its extremity, may be clearly seen from Snowdon; as well as Cadair Idris Mountain, near Dolgelley, in Merionethshire, and Plinlimmon in Montgomeryshire.

The old Tower, or Castle, called Dolbadern, must at one time have been considerably larger, as the remains of other Towers, Walls, and Buildings are still visible.—It is supposed to have been erected about the beginning of the eleventh Century, or perhaps earlier, by one of the Welsh Princes, {126} for the defence of this strong Pass, and to be used occasionally as a hunting and fishing seat; for it is mentioned in the Welsh Histories, or Chronicles, considerably earlier than Edward the 1st. and there are some Welsh Poems still extant, which were addressed to Owen Goch (Rufus) during the time of his imprisonment in this Fortress by his Brother Llewelyn ap Griffith, last Prince of Wales, of the British line, which was from the year 1254 to 1277, being 23 years: The following is a part of an Ode, (Awdl) composed by Howel Voel ap Griffri ap Pwyll Gwyddel, lamenting the confinement of that Prince:

Duw mawr amerawdwr dyniadon,
Dillwng dy walch, terwyn-walch tirion,
Dewr Owain, den-rudd liw ffion,
Dur-goch Bâr, llachar, llawch Deon, &c.

“Great God, the supreme Governor of the World, release from captivity, the mild, the brave, the Lion-hearted Owen; with the ruddy Cheeks, and his bright-gleaming steel Lance, tinged with the blood of his enemies; the defender of all those who come to seek his protection;—he never dismissed the injured suppliant unredressed,—the reliever of the oppressed—the generous distributor of costly gifts. The Earth appears desolate, since he has been in confinement,—the hopes of his dependants are fled, and grief and disappointment will convey his friends and adherents to the gloomy mansions of the dead.—Daring, enterprising, successful, conquering General! He disdained to hoard up useless treasures.—He was the Idol and Delight of his Countrymen,” &c. See the remainder in the Myvyrian Archaiology already mentioned.

Another Poem, by the same Bard, begins thus:

Gwr sydd yn y twr yn hir westi,
Gwreidd, Teyrneidd, Teyrn-walch Ri,
Gwr a’m dothyw, gwall o’i golli,—o fyw
Gwreidd-liw, a glyw ei glodfori, &c.

The following attempt at a versification of the commencement, though, very far inferior to the original, may, nevertheless, give the English reader some idea of the strength and spirit of the composition:

In yonder Tower my darling Owen groans,
Oppress’d with grief, I hear his piteous moans;
Ah wretched Prince! within those walls confin’d,
A Brother’s victim—thus to death consign’d;
What mournful sounds, were to my ears convey’d,
As late dejected, o’er these rocks I stray’d;
Brave Owen’s name shall dwell upon my tongue
His matchless deeds, shall by the muse be sung
From ancient Princes, we his Lineage trace,
And valiant Chiefs, adorn his noble race;
No more his gates receive the crouded throng,
His guests no longer hear the minstrel’s song:
In war distinguish’d by his broken shield,
Like valiant Rodri, {128a} he disdain’d to yield:
Shame that a Prince, should thus in bondage pine,
Whose acts, if free, would Rhun’s {128b} fam’d deeds outshine
These lands ne’er saw the Saxon’s fire and sword,
Till he knew durance vile from Snowdon’s Lord, &c.

The reader is referred for the remainder to the publication before mentioned.

Bishop Godfrey Goodman, purchased a Farm (Ty Du) in this Parish, where he resided during the greatest part of the usurpation of Oliver Cromwell. He was a native of Ruthin, and left that Farm and Coed Mawr, towards the maintenance of the poor of his native parish. He died Bishop of Gloucester, and made a most singular Will, printed in York’s five Royal Tribes. About 37 years ago, a remarkably strong man, (Foulk Jones) lived at Ty Du; many wonderful things are related of him, such as his carrying the largest end of a piece of timber, while it required three men to support the other;—his holding a bull, with one hand, by the horns;—carrying a yearling heifer, that was unwell, home from the field;—throwing a Denbighshire Champion, who had heard of his strength, and was come over, either to fight or wrestle with him, over a wall from a field into the road; and he is said to have lifted a strong man, who insulted him, at Carnarvon, over the battlements of the Bridge, and to have held him over the water, until he had submitted to make an apology, for having so attacked him without any provocation. Many persons now living recollect this man; he was a person of sober, peaceable habits, and much beloved and respected by all his neighbours.

The Rev. Evan Evans, alias Prydydd Hir, Author of Dissertatio de Bardis, Specimens of Ancient British or Welsh Poetry; The Love of our Country, 2 Vols. of Welsh Sermons, 8vo. &c. was Curate of Llanberis in the year 1771. He was then employed in collecting and transcribing Welsh MSS. and had access to the libraries of most of the gentlemen of North Wales, particularly to the valuable collections of Sir W. W. Wynne, Bart. (the present gentleman’s father, and from whom he received a Pension of £20. per Annum, which was afterwards withdrawn), those of Hengwrt, near Dolgelley, Gloddaith, near Conway, and Plas Gwynn, P. Panton’s, Esq. Anglesey. Mr. Evans born at Gynhawdref, near Aberystwith, in Cardiganshire, was educated at the Grammar School of Ystrad Meirig, in the same County, under the celebrated Mr. Richards, many years master of that School. He shewed an early attachment to the Welsh Muse, and was soon noticed by Mr. Lewis Morris, the famous Antiquary and Bard, who conceived a very favorable opinion of his abilities, from some of his juvenile compositions, in his native language.—Mr. Evans was of Merton College, Oxford; he is said to have died in great distress and poverty, at the place of his nativity, August, 1789, in the 58th year of his age. The inhabitants of Llanberis still shew a pool in the river where he used to bathe. The late Rev. B. Williams, of Vron, near Bala, Mr. Pennant’s companion in his Welsh Tour, composed the following lines to his memory, which may not be unacceptable to our readers, particularly at the present period, when the love of Welsh Literature seems to be reviving:

On Snowdon’s haughty brow I stood,
And view’d, afar, old Mona’s flood;—
Carnarvon Castle, Eagle-crown’d,
And all the glorious prospect round.
But soon each gay idea fled,
For Snowdon’s favorite Bard is dead;—
Poor Bard, accept a genuine tear,
And read thy true eulogium _here_;
Here, in my _heart_, that rues the day,
That stole Eryri’s pride away:
But lo! where seen, by fancy’s eye,
His visionary form glides by,
Pale, ghastly pale,—that hollow cheek,—
That frantic look does more than speak,
And tells a tale so full of woe,
My bosom swells, my eyes o’erflow:—
To want and to despair a prey,
He pin’d, and sigh’d his soul away!
Ungrateful countrymen, your _pride_,
Your _glory_, wanted bread and died!
Whilst Ignorance and Vice are fed,
Shall Wit and Genius droop their head?
Shall fawning Sycophants be paid
For flattering fools? while thou art laid
On thy sick bed, the mountain {131} heath,
Waiting the slow approach of Death,
Beneath inhospitable skies,
Without a friend to close thine eyes?
Thus, shall the chief of Bards expire?
The Master of the British Lyre!
And shall thy hapless reliques rot,
Unwept, unhallowed, and forgot?
No, while one grateful Muse remains,
And _Pity_ dwells on _Cambria’s_ plains,
Thy mournful story shall be told,
And wept till Time itself grows old.

R. WILLIAMS, of Vron, near Bala.—1799.

About the year 1805, John Closs, son of Robert Closs, the Innkeeper at Llanberis, a little boy about seven years of age, was persuaded to go and reside with his grandmother, at Caeau gwynion, in Nant y Bettws, not far from Quellyn Pool, and his mother having come to see him, the love of home revived in his memory, and the thoughts of seeing his brothers and sisters became so powerful, that he resolved to follow his mother to Llanberis, unknown both to her and his grandmother; he therefore pursued her up the mountain at some distance: it was in the winter time, late in the evening, and it began to snow, he lost his way, and after wandering some time, he perished on the mountain. His mother, (though she once fancied she heard a child crying) thought he was at his grandmother’s, and the did woman concluded he was gone home with his mother, thus both being deceived, it was some time before it was known that he had followed his mother on that fatal evening; after two or three days painful search, (numbers of the neighbours having collected together) his body was found at the verge of a precipice, near the top of Moel Aelia. The following lines were composed on that melancholy occasion:

A luckless lad, one winter’s day,
Unknown to Granny, ran away,
Nor longer at her house would stay
Without his mother.

Unknowing that her child pursu’d,
The gathering storm, unmov’d, she view’d,
The thoughts of home her strength renew’d;—
Alas poor mother!

With feebler steps, and fainter cry,
Alarm’d, he sees the dark’ning sky,
Yet still he hop’d that she was nigh,
And sobb’d my mother.

Dark was the night, the snow descends,
Near Aelia’s top his life he ends,
As home his weary way he beads,
Nor longer cries my mother!

Some of our readers may probably be pleased and amused with the following extracts from Leland, respecting Llanberis and its neighbourhood:

“Linne Dolbaterne, 2 miles in length, and a diminutive mile in
breadth; Vallis Monachus, alias Nant Manach, or Peris, is the upper
Valley, in which is Linne Peris, a mile in length, and a dim half in
breadth.—Segent (Seiont) cometh first through Llynn Peris, and a bow
shot off, runneth into Llyn Padarn; there is but a meadow and bridge
between these two pools.—In these two pooles be redde belly fishes,
called thorr gough (Tor goch) id est, thori aut pectoris rubri.
There be also some of these in Linne Tarddynni, (Cawellyn) and in
Linne Bala deulynn, (Llanllyfni Lakes); they be taken in these three
pooles in order, and taken in one and not seen in the other; Linne
Doythock nothing so big as Linne Peris: these three, Linne Peris,
Linne Padarn, and Linne Doythock, are all in the Parish of Llanberis,
and the lowest Lake is five miles E.S.E. from Carnarvon, and lie in
vallies, W.N.W. from Llanberis. Bala Deulynn is in Hugh Gurvai (Uwch
Gorfai) Hundred, and six miles (nine miles) beyond Carnarvon; the
others, viz. Linne Peris, Linne Dolpaterne, Linne Doythock, and Linne
Tarddynni, are in the Commot of Is Gorvai, (_infra_ Gwyrvai) and all
the great Withaw Hill {133} is wholly in this Commot; this hill is
all in the Parish of Peris, and is a _radicibus_ five miles to the
top. Dolbaterne Castle, on a rock, betwixt two Linnes; there is yet
a piece of a Tower, where Owen Gough (Goch) brother to Llywelyn, last
Prince, was in prison; it is in Is Gwrfai Commot. Dolbadarn a five
miles from Carnarvon, by E.S.E. hard by Linne Peris; Segent (Seiont)
as I heard say riseth at Linne Dolbaterne. This Pool is three miles
in length, and in some places a mile broad, and in diverse places
less and less; it lieth by Withaw Hill, (Snowdon) and is distant 5
miles from Carnarvon, towards S.E.—The best Wood of Carnarvonshire is
by Glynn Cledair, in the Parish of Dolwyddelen, and by Glynn Lligwy,
and by Capel Curig, and at Llanperis,—all Creigiau’r Ryri is Forest.
Metely good wood about Conway Abbey, and Penmachno, and about
Coetmore, and Coet Park, by Bangor, and other places; in Lleyn and
Eivionydd is little wood. Carnarvonshire, about the shore, hath
reasonable good corn, about a mile upward from the shore unto
Carnarvon,—then more upward be Eryri Hills, and in them is very
little corn, except oats in some places, and a little barley, but
scantly rye, if there were the Deer would destroy it; but in Lleyn
and Eifionydd is good corn, both by shore, and almost through upland.
Syr Gul. Griffith hath a fayr House at Penrynn, two miles on this
side Bangor; William vab William, dwelleth at a place called
Gochwillan, a mile on this side Penryn; William Coetmore, dwelleth at
Coetmore, by Tal Lynn Ogwen; Pillsdon, in Caerarvon Town; John vab
Madock vab Poel, dwelleth in Lleen, at Bodvel; John Wynne, vab
Meredith, dwelleth at Gweder, a two bow shots above Llanrwst, on the
Ripe (Bank) of the Conwy River; Elis vab Morris, at Clennenna, in
Penmorva Parish, in Comot Hinioneth (Eifionydd).”

Should the stranger not be disposed to accompany us in our Tour round the Promontory of Lleyn, and to the Island of Bardsey, (which, by the bye, we hope to render both interesting and amusing), he may proceed from Carnarvon to Bethgelert, and from thence, along the sea coast, to Barmouth, by Tremadoc and Harlech; or, from Pont Aberglaslyn to Tan y Bwlch, Meantwrog, Trawsfynydd, and so by Dol y Melynllyn, and the Cain and Mawddach Waterfalls to Dolgelley. The distance from Carnarvon to Bethgelert is about 12 miles: we proceed up the Hill, by Llanbeblig, (the Parish Church) then over Pont Peblig Bridge, about half a mile beyond which, on the left, is Glangwnna, the beautiful and much-admired seat of Thomas Lloyd, Esq. standing on a fine eminence, between two rivers, at the western extremity of the Parish of Llanrug; this place, in point of situation, possesses many natural advantages, and all the improvements exhibit evident tokens of a judicious mind, and cultivated taste, as it contains, within its own limits, all the requisites to form a fine landscape, and has on one side an extensive sea prospect, on the other, a range of majestic mountains; upon the whole, this is generally considered as one of the sweetest and loveliest Villas in this part of the Principality. On the right, about the same distance from the road, is Penrhôs, a large, handsome house, lately built by the proprietor, H. R. Williams, Esq.; it commands a fine view of the Castle, the Menai, Carnarvon Bay, and the surrounding Scenery. About three miles farther, we approach the beautiful little vale of Bettws Garmon, watered by the river Gwyrfai, the source of which is at the foot of Snowdon, and after running through Quellyn Lake, and under Pont Newydd Bridge, it empties itself into the Menai, at Abermenai. On the right, Mynydd-mawr forms a striking feature, its top is smooth, but its front is formed into an immense precipice, retiring inwards in a semicircular shape. Moel Aelia, on the left, is another mountain of a stupendous bulk, most regularly rounded, and of a beautiful verdure; this pass was defended, on one side, by Castell Cidwm, a great rock at the foot of Mynydd mawr, formerly fortified, and on the other by a small Fort, the remains of which are still visible, near Treflan Bettws is a perpetual Curacy; the Church is very small, and is dedicated to St. Germanus, and the Parish consists only of six or seven tenements; the corn tithe belongs to the family of Glyn Llifon; it is in the patronage of the Bishop. About half a mile beyond Bettws, near a small mill, Melin Cerrig y Rhyd, commonly called Nant Mill, is a most beautiful cascade, and a small Arch, without any Battlements, forming a very singular appearance, of which there is a view, in Mr. Pennant’s Tour, representing a person on horseback, going home over this little Bridge, with a load from the mill. On the left is Nant Hall, one of the seats of Sir R. Williams, Bart. Member for this County.—The present lord Viscount Bulkeley is a descendant (by the mother’s side) of the Rowland’s of this house.—Soon after passing Nant, the Vale expands with a magnificent view of Snowdon—travel along the side of Llyn Cawellyn, pass the Snowdon guide’s house, and proceed to the junction of the Drws y Coed road, near a small Bridge, about a quarter of a mile beyond Quellyn Lake, and soon after arrive in view of Llynn Cader, a small round pool on the right, respecting which the Welsh people relate a ridiculous tale, that a gentleman’s hounds, in former days, started, on a rock near this Lake, a strange kind of an animal (Aur Frychyn) with tufts of hair shining like gold, nearly approaching, according to their representation, to a species of Buffalo, and that he was pursued for some time and killed, near a place called Nant y lle, and that he bellowed so loud when taken that the rocks rent. After travelling about two miles, we begin to descend towards Bethgelert, and observe, on the right, Moel Hebog, a lofty conical Hill, which Lord Lyttleton ascended from Brynkir, when he made the Tour of North Wales. Bethgelert is a neat little village, in a romantic situation, between high mountains; here is a good Inn, surrounded with thriving plantations, built about eighteen years ago, by Thomas Jones, Esq. of Bryn Tirion, before mentioned. The Church is small, and has been Conventual, belonging to a Priory of _Augustines_, and dedicated to St. Mary. There is reason to suppose, says Mr. Pennant, they might have been of that class which was called Gilbertines, and consisted of both men and women, who lived under the same roof, but strictly separated from each other by a wall; the cause of his suspicion is a meadow, near the Church, called Dol y Lleian, the Nun’s meadow. Bethgelert is supposed to be the most ancient foundation in the Country, except Bardsey. Tanner ascribes it to our last Prince, but it must have been long before his days, there being a recital of a Charter, for certain Lands bestowed on it, by Llewelyn the Great, who began his reign in 1194. It was favored, in the same manner, by other succeeding Princes; David ap Llewelyn bestowed on it some Lands in Pennant Gwernogan, belonging to Tudor ap Madoc, to which the Prince had no right; this occasioned a suit between the sons of Tudor and Philipp, Prior of the House, before William de Grandison, and R. de Stanedon, at Caernarvon, when a verdict was given against the Convent. The Prior had for his support the Grange of Llecheiddior, in Eifionydd, and part of a mill; the Grange of Fentidillt, and Village of Gwehelyn; the Grange of Tre’r Beirdd in Anglesey, one Plough Land, and a certain share of the bees. The esteem which these insects were held in by the Ancient Britons, on account of their producing the nectareous Mead, was so great, that they considered them as created in Paradise, that when they quitted it on the fall of man, they were blessed by God himself, and therefore no Mass ought to be celebrated but by the light of their wax, as we read in the laws of Howel Dda. The Prior had, besides, an allowance of fifty cows and twenty-two sheep; the expences of the house must have been considerable, for it was on the great road from England and South Wales to North Wales, and from Ireland to England. In order to enable this place to keep up its usual hospitality, after it had suffered in 1283, by a casual fire, Edward 1st most munificently repaired all the damages; and Bishop Anian, about the year 1286, for the encouragement of other benefactors, remitted to all such who truly repented of their sins, forty days of any penance inflicted on them. In 1535 it was bestowed by Henry VIII. on the Abbey of Chertsey, in Surrey, and in 1537, it was given, with the last, as an Appurtenance to that of Bisham, in Berkshire. On the dissolution, the King gave to the family of the _Bodvels_, all the Lands in Carnarvonshire, which belonged to this Priory, and all those in Anglesey, to that of the Prydderchs, excepting the Township of Tre’r Beirdd. The Revenues of Bethgelert were valued, by Dugdale, at Seventy Pounds, Three Shillings and Eight-pence; by Speed, at Sixty-nine Pounds, Three Shillings, and Eight-pence. Edward Conway is mentioned as last Prior. There are no remains at present of the Convent.—Mr. Pennant had in his possession a drawing of the Seal of the Priory, dated 1531; on it was the figure of the Virgin and child, but no part of the Legend except BETHKELE. Lewis Daron, a Bard of the 15th Century, in a Poem, (the purport of which is to solicit David the Prior to bestow a fine bay horse, then in his possession, on John Wynne, of Gwydir, Esq.) extols him on account of his great learning and liberality.—Hence we are led to suppose that this Monk was very opulent, and a popular character in his time. The ground on the South side of the Church, seems to have been the spot, says Mr. Williams, late of Llandegai, in his “Observations on the Snowdon Mountain,” whereon stood the buildings which the Monks formerly inhabited, and we may discover two or three arched doors, now closed up on that side of the Church, through which these religious persons probably entered, when they went to their devotions; there is likewise an ancient Mansion House, near the Church, which probably was the habitation of the Prior. In this house was shewn, some years ago, an old pewter mug, which will contain two quarts, or more, and was called the Bethgelert Pint, and any person who could grasp it in one hand, and drink up the contents, (which was ale) at one draught, was entitled to the liquor, _gratis_, and the tenant was to charge the value of it to the Lord of the Manor, as part payment of his rent. At Bethgelert lie buried two eminent Bards, Rhys Goch Eryri, and Dafydd Nanmor; the former died about the year 1420, and it may be inferred, from his writings (many of which are still extant) that he lived to the great age of 120. He was a man of property, and lived at Hafod Garegog, situated beyond Pont Aberglaslyn, on the road to Tan y Bwlch, and consequently in the County of Merioneth, though within the limits of this Parish. The latter resided at Nanmor, which is also a district of this Parish, on the same side of the river. He died about A.D. 1460, and appears to have been a person of some consequence; they were both learned men, (considering the age they lived in) as their compositions abundantly testify.

To the N.E. of the village, is the entrance into the beautiful little Vale of Nant Gwynant, which, though narrow at first, expands and unfolds its beauties, as the traveller advances; this valley may be considered, however, as consisting of two portions or divisions, separated by a narrow defile; at the upper end of the lower vale is Llynn Dinas Emrys, and just above it, commanding a delightful view of that Lake, the River, the Woods, Mountains, &c. and particularly of Snowdon, is Plâs Gwynant, the romantic Summer residence of D. Vaudrey, Esq. Just below this small Lake, and nearly in the centre of the Vale, appears the famous Dinas Emrys, which is a huge insulated rock, clothed with wood, and precipitous on three sides; on the summit is a large area, but no remains of a Castle. On the accessible side are three ramparts of stone, within which is the ruin of a small stone building, about ten yards long, the walls without any mortar. This place is from early times celebrated in British story, for here

Prophetic Merlin sat, when to the British King,
The changes long to come, auspiciously he told.

The legend is thus told: when Vortigern found himself unable to contend with the treacherous Saxons, whom he had, in the year 449, invited into Britain, he determined, by the advice of his Magicians, on building an impregnable fortress in Snowdon. He collected the materials, which all disappeared in one night.—The Prince, astonished at this, convened again his wise men, who assured him his building would never stand, unless it was sprinkled with the blood of a child, born without the help of a father; the Realm was ransacked,—at length, one of his emissaries overheard some boys at play reproach another, and call him an unbegotten knave. The child and his mother were brought before the King,—she confessed he was the offspring of an Incubus. The boy, whose name was Merlin, was ordered to be sacrificed, but on confounding all the Magicians, with his questions, and explaining the cause of the miscarriage, got his liberty, and

To that mighty King, who rashly undertook
A strong wall’d Tower to rear, those earthly spirits that shook
The great foundation still, in Dragon’s horrid shape
That dreaming wizzard told, making the mountain gape
With his most powerful charms, to view those caverns deep
And from the top of _Brith_, so high and wondrous steep,
Where Dinas Emrys stood, shewed where the serpent fought,
The white that tore the red, from whence the Prophet wrought
The Britons sad decay, then shortly to ensue.

The above is Drayton’s translation of the legend, in his Polyolbion. Merlin, or Merddin Emrys, or Ambrosius, was in fact the son of a noble Roman of the same name; his mother, a vestal, to save her life and honor, invented the fable of his father, which was swallowed by the credulity of the times. Merlin, or Myrddin, was an able Mathematician and Astronomer, and deeply read in all the learning of his age. The vulgar, as usual, ascribed all he did to the art of magic, and his discovery, that Vortigern had begun to found his Castle on a Morass, was immediately said to have been attended with most portentous circumstances; numbers of Prophecies were attributed to him, the repetition of which is said to have been forbidden, by the Council of Trent; however, since it is certain that Vortigern, after his misfortunes, retired to the Snowdon Hills, and died not very remote from them, it is possible he might have selected this for his strong hold, as it is admirably adapted for that purpose, and nearly fills the streight of the valley, and Merlin Ambrosius might have given to it the name of Emris. A place close by, styled Cell y Dewiniaid, or the Cell of the Diviners, allusive to the Magicians of Vortigern’s Court, is another circumstance which favors the history of this celebrated supposed Prophet, and not at a great distance, are some large stones, which are called Beddau’r Dewiniaid, the Tombs of the Magicians. There is a tradition also, that within this rock there is a Cave, the mouth of which is now shut up, where Merddin concealed some valuable articles, particularly a golden chair, lest they should fall into the enemy’s hands. The upper Lake is called Llyn Gwynant,—the distance between the two is something more than a mile, and near the road are some beautiful thriving plantations, belonging to the Rev. H. Wynne Jones, and Mr. Vaudrey, before mentioned. On the South side of the Upper Lake, are the ruins of a small Chapel, called _Capel Nan’hwynen_, and it would be a great convenience to the inhabitants if it were re-built, as the distance from hence to Bethgelert is between three and four miles. There is a tradition that _Madog_, the son of Prince Owen Gwynedd, resided near this spot, for some time before he left his Country, and set sail for America, and that he frequented this small Chapel, of which he is supposed to have been the founder. Mr. Pennant pronounces this to be the most beautiful Vale in _Snowdonia_, being guarded on each side by vast Mountains, such as Crib Ddu, or part of Mynydd Nanmor; the Aran, on the West, Lliwedd to the North; Dduallt and Wenallt, being about five miles in extent, from its upper extremity to the Village of Bethgelert,—and varied with woods, lakes, rivers, meadows, waterfalls, and rocks of the most fantastic and picturesque appearance. The distance from Bethgelert to Capel Curig is twelve miles, the latter part of which is over an uninteresting mountain moor, or flat; it improves a little, however, within a few miles of the last mentioned place, when we arrive in view of the two Lakes, called Llyniau Mymbir. From Capel Curig to Bettws y Coed, or Bettws wyrion Iddon, is five miles, along the new Irish Road. About half way between these two places is the celebrated Cataract, Rhaiadr y wennol, where the River Llugwy falls, with a tremendous roar, over some steep lofty rocks, into a deep black chasm, concealed by large oak, and dark overhanging woods. Considerable remains of a large Roman building were discovered, some years ago, near this spot, on the Estate of the Duke of Ancaster, at a place called Bryn y Gefeiliau. “I distinctly traced,” says Mr. Lysons, “the walls of one room, the dimensions of which were 60 feet by 20.” This neighbourhood is supposed to have been much frequented by the Romans, on account of its Slate Quarries, and valuable Lead and Copper Mines, and it is conjectured that the Roman Road, from Pen y stryt, and Tommen y Mur, in the Parish of Trawsfynydd, passed this way to _Conovium_, (Caer Rhun), as it has been distinctly traced by the Church of Dolydd Helen, Cwm Pen nan’maen, Pennant, Hafodty Dôl Camman, Llechwedd Bychan, Foel Fras, and above Hafod Yspytty, &c.—Capel Curig is in the Parish of Llandegai, and was a Chapel of ease to that Church and Llanllechid, but is now served with Dolydd Helen; it is dedicated to a reputed saint of the name of Curig, respecting whom, and some other begging Friars, these Welsh lines were written:

Un o honynt, a ddygai
_Curig_ Lwyd, dan gwr ei glôg;
Gwas arall, a ddug Seiriol,
A naw o gaws yn ei gol.

A certain Friar, to increase his store
Beneath his cloak, grey Curig’s Image bore;
And, to protect good folks from nightly harm,
Another sells St. Seiriol as a charm.

It may reasonably be supposed that St. Curig resided for some time in this sequestered spot, as we find many persons of eminence, in the fifth and sixth Centuries, to have fled from the borders of Scotland, and other parts of Great Britain, to the Mountains of Wales, to avoid the Saxon sword. Any person who may be desirous of visiting the old British Castle of Dolydd Helen, may take a guide from Capel Curig, and cross over near the foot of that high mountain, Moel Siabod, often conspicuous from most distant places. This fortress is situated on a high rock, precipitous on one side and insulated; it consists of two square Towers, one forty feet by twenty-five, the other thirty-one by twenty; each had formerly three floors. This was founded by one of our Welsh Princes, but we are ignorant of its origin.—Iorwerth Drwyn dwn (or with the broken nose) made this place his residence, and here is said to have been born his son _Llewelyn the Great_, who began his reign in the time of Richard the first. Meredydd ap Ievan, before mentioned, and who was brought up at Crug, near Carnarvon, and who was an ancestor of the Wynne’s of Gwydir, in the reign of Henry VII. purchased the Lease of this Castle, and the Inclosures belonging to it, from the Executors of Sir Ralph Berkenet, it having been excepted among the places granted by Richard III. and resumed by his successor. Before that time, Howel ap Evan ap Rhys Gethin, a noted outlaw, resided here. As soon as it came into the possession of Meredydd, he removed from his habitation in Eifionydd, (a hundred in the County) to this Castle, giving this excellent reason: “I had rather fight with outlaws and thieves, than with my own blood and kindred. If I live in my own house in Eifionydd, I must either kill my own kinsmen, or be killed by them.” The feuds among the principal gentlemen in Evionedd occasioned perpetual murders, and Nant-Conwy was filled with banditti. This gentleman soon reformed the Country; he established colonies of the most tall and able men he could procure, till at last they amounted to seven score tall bowmen, every one arrayed in a jacket or armolet coat, a good steel cap, a short sword and dagger, together with his bow and arrows; many of them also had horses, and chasing slaves, which were ready to answer the cry on all occasions. He founded the strong house of Pen nan’maen, a mile distant from the Castle. He removed the Church, which before lay in a thicket, to a more open place, by way of security; for he never dared to quit his house, without leaving in it a strong guard, and another of twenty tall Archers to attend him, whenever he went to Church, besides a watchman, on a rock called Carreg y Bîg, to give notice of the approach of the banditti.—He ended his useful life in 1525, and left behind him twenty-three legitimate, and three natural children.—The Church had been an impropriation of the Abbey of Beddgelert; it is very small, and has in it a monument commemorating such of the family as were buried in it. After proceeding so far, many persons may feel inclined to visit Llanrwst, the rout to which we have before described, not only on account of its celebrated Bridge, built by Inigo Jones, but in order to visit the ancient Monuments within the Gwydir Chapel, of which a most correct and beautiful view has lately been given to the public, by Mr. H. Hughes, of Llan Saint Ffraid, Glann Conwy, who is now publishing the Beauties of Cambria, and, as a native artist of genius and merit, deserves the countenance and support of every friend to his country.

We shall now return to the Village of Bethgelert, and proceed from thence to the celebrated Pont Aberglaslyn, by some called (though very improperly) the Devil’s Bridge, {149} about a mile distant; the first part of the road is through some thriving plantations, afterwards along the Banks of the River, when in a short time the mountains approach so close, as to leave only room for the furious torrent to roll over its stony bed, above which is a narrow road, formed with incredible labour, impending over the water; the scenery is the most magnificent that can be imagined: the mountains rise to very uncommon height, and oppose to us nothing but a broken series of precipices, one above the other, as high as the eye can reach. Here is very little appearance of vegetation, yet there are small patches here and there, sufficient to tempt the poor goat to its destruction, for it will sometimes leap down to an alluring tuft of verdure, where, without possibility of return, it must remain to perish, after it has finished the dear-bought repast. The Bridge terminates the pass, and consists of a single Arch over a deep chasm, and supported on each side by a projecting rock,—above is a small cataract, where the traveller at times may have much amusement, in observing the Salmon, in great numbers, make their efforts to surmount the heights. Here had been a Royal weir, in the Reign of Henry IV. which was then rented by Robert ap Meredydd. It probably belonged, in old times, to our natural Princes, for it seems to have been a most valuable privilege, as we read that young Prince Elphin was endowed with one by his Royal Father; and the celebrated Bard Taliesin, wrote a Poem to console him on his disappointment in finding one morning an empty weir, which probably in those times was very seldom the case:

Elphin deg, taw ath wylo
Na chabled neb yr eiddo
Ni wna les drwg obeithio, &c.

Elphin, fair as roseate morn,
Cease o lovely youth to mourn &c.

_See Pennant’s Tour_.

Not far from this Bridge is shewn a stone, by the road side, called Rhys Goch o Eryri’s chair, where it is said he used to sit and compose his Poems; and not far from Meillionen, in this Parish, was discovered in 1784, a curious Shield; supposed to be British. There is an excellent road from Pont Aberglaslyn to Tremadoc, along the Western Banks of the Glaslyn, the distance about five miles; as also over the Bridge to Tan y Bwlch and Festiniog, which is about seven or eight.

We shall now return once more to Carnarvon, and proceed nearly along the Sea Coast, round the Promontory of Lleyn.—We have already conducted the stranger as far as the small Bridge (Pont Afon Rhyd), where the road branches off for Llanllyfni; having proceeded about a mile further, observe on the right Mount Hazel, the seat of the Rev. Glynne Bodvel Lewis, and between it and the sea Llandwrog Church, where there are several handsome Monuments, to the memory of the Wynne’s of Glynn Llivon, particularly that of Sir John Wynn, (grandfather of the present Lord Newborough,) who built that house, which is now much neglected, and greatly out of repair, owing to the minority of the proprietor. Glynn is on the left of the road, and near the little river Llifon, issuing from the Cilgwyn Mountains. _Cilmin_ Droed-ddu, or Kilmin with the _black foot_, one of the fifteen tribes of North Wales, and nephew to Merfryn Frych, Prince of Wales, slain 841, was the founder of this family, and is said to have had his residence near this spot; they bear, in allusion to the name of their Ancestor, a man’s leg _coupe a la cuisse_, sable: he is said to have injured his leg in some dangerous encounter, and that it became discoloured, and that he continued lame in consequence of this unfortunate circumstance. Glynn Llifon came into possession of the late Sir John Wynn, by the marriage of his father, Thomas Wynn, Esq. of Boduan, in Lleyn, with Frances, second daughter to John Glynn, Esq. of Glynn Llifon.—The Glynns of Lleiar, and Plas Newydd, near Glynn Llifon, were branches of this family: the latter afterwards became the property of the Owens of Bodowen, in Anglesey. The principal Roman encampment, in this neighbourhood, is Dinas Dinlle, situated upon the verge of the Irish Channel, and almost in the centre of Carnarvon Bay; the Western part of it is washed by all the higher tides, and it is not more than ten or fifteen yards above the sea at any other time; it not only commands the Bay itself, its Creeks and Harbours, but has also a boundless prospect towards the Main Ocean, or Irish Channel, anciently called Mare Vergivium, and in Welsh, Môr Werydd, insomuch that no Vessel can pass to the Southward, without being observed by those who keep a good look out at their station. The following Roman and British Posts and Encampments, being not far distant from the road, may be conveniently visited by the curious Tourist, as he proceeds on his journey.—Many of them appear to have been out-posts and appendages to the principal _Dinas’s_, and to have had a regular connection and communication with _Segontium_:

1. Dinas Dinoethwy, near Pont Newydd, now the residence of Captain Jones.—Length, 180 paces; Breadth, 60; South side slope, 20; North ditto, 30.