interesting. Several detached cottages are sprinkled through its wooded
declivities; and here and there a gentleman’s seat, “embosomed high in
tufted trees,” makes a pleasing feature in the fascinating landscape.
Returning to the turnpike road, a short saunter soon brought us to the
romantically-situated town of
LLANGOLLEN,
(pronounced Thlangothlen) completely environed with mountains, with a
high hill to our right, bearing on its narrow peak the small remains of
Castle Dinas Brân. The bridge, adjacent to the town, thrown over the
rapid Dee, consisting of six arches, and formerly esteemed one of the
principal wonders of Wales, by no means answered our expectations. Some
difficulty, no doubt, attended its first erection, as the foundation is
built on the solid rock.
The elegant description of the valley in the kingdom of Amhara, by Dr.
Johnson, is very applicable to Llangollen; for “all the blessings of
nature seemed here to be collected, and its evils extracted and
excluded.” Without a sigh of regret, not like the discontented Rasselas,
I could here pass the remainder of my days, “in full conviction, that
this vale contains within its reach all that art or nature can bestow. I
could pity those, whom fate had excluded from this seat of tranquillity,
as the sport of chance, and the slaves of misery.” Such is the enviable
situation of Lady Eleanor Butler and Miss Ponsonby; who, thus veiled in
obscurity, have fitted up, in a true characteristic style, an elegant
little cottage, at the west extremity of the town, situated on a knoll.
The two rooms which are allotted for the inspection of strangers, are
very handsomely furnished: the dining-room is ornamented with drawings,
the most favourite spots in the vicinity being selected as the subjects.
The window commands a prospect of the mountains, which awfully rise in
front. The study, looking on the well-arranged plantations of the
garden, was appropriately furnished with a choice collection of books.
We regretted, in the absence of the gardener, that we could not gain
admittance to the grounds. The vale of Llangollen, and this enviable
retreat, have been the subject of much admiration, both in verse and
prose; and highly deserve the praises which have been lavished upon it:
“Say, ivy’d Valle Crucis; time delay’d
Dim on the brink of Deva’s wand’ring floods,
Your ivy’d arch glitt’ring through the tangled shade,
Your grey hills tow’ring o’er your night of woods;
Deep in the vale recesses as you stand,
And, desolately great, the rising sign command;
Say, lovely ruin’d pile, when former years
Saw your pale train at midnight altars bow;
Saw superstition frown upon the tears
That mourn’d the rash, irrevocable vow;
Wore one young lip gay Eleanora’s {285a} smile?
Did Zara’s {285b} look serene one tedious hour beguile?”
The bridge of Llangollen is thus described by the elegant pen of Mr.
Pennant:—“The bridge, which was founded by the first John Trevor, bishop
of St. Asaph, {285c} who died in 1357, is one of the Tri Thlws Cymru, or
three beauties of Wales: but more remarkable for its situation than
structure. It consists of five arches; whose widest does not exceed
twenty-eight feet in diameter. The river usually runs under only one;
where it has formed a black chasm of vast depth, into which the water
pours with great fury from a high broken ledge, formed in the smooth and
solid rock, which composes the whole bed of the river. The view through
the arches, either upwards or downwards, is extremely picturesque.”
Having satisfied our curiosity, Dinas Brân, or Crow Castle, next invited
our attention; and having attained the summit of a steep and craggy hill,
commanding a pleasing view of Llangollen, we arrived at the ruins, which
crest this precipice. The remains of this castle are now so trifling,
that it scarcely repays even the enthusiast the trouble of ascending.
Its appearance is by no means picturesque; not a tree to give effect to
the crumbling walls: nor has time spared one of the towers. It was
formerly the residence of Myfanwy Vechan, so celebrated in verse. The
castle is built of the stone which composes the hill, on which it is
erected.
The prospect is very pleasing. Chirk Castle, Wynnstay Park, {286} and
many other seats of respectability, more particularly conspicuous. Great
part of the vale, and the meandering course of the Dee, may here be
traced; whilst the opposite hills are shelved off in an extraordinary and
unusual manner, resembling so many walls or fortifications.
The author of the Beauties, Harmonies, and Sublimities of Nature, thus
describes his ascent up this mountain. “The sun was shooting its evening
rays along the vale, embellishing every thing they touched. It having
rained all the morning, the freshness with which spring had clad every
object, gave additional impulse to all our feelings. Arrived at the
summit, the scene became truly captivating: for nature appeared to have
drawn the veil from her bosom, and to glory in her charms. The season of
early spring, which, in other countries, serves only to exhibit their
poverty, displayed new beauties in this. Nature had thrown off her
mantle of snow, and appeared to invite the beholder to take a last look
of her beauties, ere she shaded the cottage with woodbine, or screened
with leaves the fantastic arms of the oak. The clouds soon began to form
over their heads, and a waving column lightly touched their hats. Around
was one continued range of mountains, with DINAS rising above the river.
Immediately below, lay a beautifully-diversified vale, with the
Dee,—Milton’s ‘Wizard Stream,’—combining all the charms of the Arno and
the Loire, winding through the middle of it: while on the east side of
the mountain several villages seemed to rest in calm repose. This
beautiful scene was soon converted into a sublime one. For the clouds
assuming a more gloomy character, the tops of all the mountains around
became totally enveloped; and our heads were now and then encircled with
a heavy vapour. A more perfect union of the beautiful and magnificent it
were difficult to conceive. No object was discernible above; but below,
how captivating! Their feet were illumined by the sun, their heads, as
it were, touching the clouds. Above, all was gloomy and dark; below, the
sun, from the west, still illumined the villages and spires, the cottages
and woods, the pastures and fields, which lay scattered in every
direction; while the Dee, at intervals, swept, in many a graceful curve,
along the bottom of the vale. These objects, so variously blended, and
so admirably contrasted with the sombre scene above them, called to the
imagination the golden thoughts of Ariosto; and inspired such a
combination of feelings, that, for a time, they were absorbed in silent
meditation. While they were indulging in this repose, the sounds of
village bells, in honour of a recent marriage, came floating on the
breeze from below. The sounds, softened by the distance, and coming from
a region so far beneath, lulled them with a choral symphony, that excited
the most delightful sensations. And such must ever be the effect on
those whose happiness has not been smothered beneath a load of splendid
vacuities; in whom society has not engendered an infinity of wants; in
whom ignorance has not awakened pride, arrogance, and vanity; and in whom
content has the power of lulling every fever of illegitimate desire.”
Having descended this steep eminence, we continued our route to Valle
Crucis Abbey, about two miles distant from Llangollen. It would be
advisable for strangers first to visit Valle Crucis, and take Dinas Brân
Castle in their way back to their inn. The transmutations of time are
frequently ridiculous: the long aisles of this monastery, which were once
only responsive to the slow-breathed chant, now repeat the rude
dissonance of cows, ducks, and all manner of poultry. Instead of these
emblems of rusticity, the mind’s eye is more accustomed to appropriate
these antique edifices to the midnight procession of monks issuing from
their cells to perform the solemn service. These neglected walls are too
deeply shrouded by the melancholy grove of towering ash, contiguously
formed, to be seen to advantage. An axe, judiciously used, would be of
service to the ruin, as the elegant window of the chapel is completely
concealed by the luxuriant vegetation around; still, however, a pleasing
melancholy pervades the whole scene. The abbey is beautifully screened
on all sides by woody hills, which entirely protect it from the
inclemency of the winter.
This ancient Cistertian monastery was founded by Madoc ap Griffith
Maelor, in the year 1200, and is sometimes called Llan-Egwiste, or
Llanegwast. In this vale was the pillar of Eglwyseg: but the country
people appeared quite ignorant of its situation. Returning to
Llangollen, we pursued the turnpike road to the neat village of
CHIRK.
For some way we followed the straight and formal course of a canal, near
this, communicating with the Pont-y-Cyssyllte; we again paused to survey
this wonderful design. The vale, on our left, was indescribably
beautiful; and over the whole was diffused the purple glow of the
evening. The prospect was composed of the miniature parts of the immense
landscape we had viewed from Dinas Brân Hill, each of which we now
contemplated separately as a scene. The moon’s chequered gleam
besilvered the walls of Chirk Castle, just as we entered the Hand Inn,
where, after the fatigues of a long walk, we met with excellent
accommodation, when considered as a village.
After breakfast the next morning we endeavoured to obtain admission to
see the inside of Chirk Castle, but without success; though now only
inhabited by servants, who were peremptorily commanded to admit no
strangers. It is situated on an eminence, surrounded by a park and fine
plantations, which are very judiciously laid out. This elegant mansion
has been in the possession of the Middleton family ever since the year
1614. Having gratified ourselves with a survey of this noble park, we
returned to the Oswestry road. Leaving the village of Chirk, we crossed
a new bridge of one arch, elegantly constructed. Near it is another
aqueduct, of considerable extent, now erecting over this river and
valley, which though very inferior to the Pont-y-Cyssyllte, is still a
great undertaking; it is several hundred yards in length, and the brick
piers rise fifty or sixty feet above the level of the water. Near this
is a rich coal mine, lately discovered.
From hence to Oswestry we traversed a rich enclosed country, and enjoyed
a scene particularly pleasing: all the inhabitants were collected, to
gather in the produce of the ripened field; and
“Through their cheerful band the rural talk,
The rural scandal, and the rural jest,
Fled harmless.”
To the traveller and the poet such scenes afford an ample field for
amusement; but waving corn is ill adapted to the canvass of the painter.
About two miles from Oswestry, we passed through the little town of
WHITTINGTON.
At this place was fought the battle between Oswald, the Christian king of
the Northumbrians, and Penda, the Pagan king of the Mercians, in which
the former lost his life. An easy walk soon brought us to
OSWESTRY.
Its only relics now remaining are the ruins of a chapel, built over a
remarkably fine spring of water; to this was formerly attributed the cure
of various diseases, incident both to man and beast; and though its
miracles have long ceased, yet it still bears the name of the saint. The
remains of the castle, supposed to have been built at the time of the
Conquest, are now almost too trivial to be noticed. This town was
garrisoned by the king, in the beginning of the civil wars, but captured
in June, 1644, by the Earl of Denbigh and General Mytton.
In passing through the town of Oswestry we noticed the church, as being a
very neat building; but, either from our own neglect, or imagining it not
to be ancient, we did not inspect the interior. Oswestry suffered
greatly by fire in the year 1542, and likewise in 1567.
“The chirch of St. Oswalde,” says Leland, “is a very faire leddid chirch,
with a great tourrid steple, but it standeth without the new gate; so
that no chirch is there withyn the towne. This chirch was sum time a
monasterie, caullid the _White Minster_. After turnid to a paroche
chirch, and the personage impropriate to the abbey of Shreusbyri. The
cloister stoode in hominum memoria ubi monumenta monachorum. The place
and streate wer the chirch standithe is called Stretllan.” From this
place to
LLANYMYNACH,
situate on the north bank of the Evyrnwy, a continuation of the rich
enclosed country, showing to advantage the agriculture of these parts,
attended us till we reached the foot of the hill of Llanymynach. From
the summit of this we enjoyed a most beautiful and boundless prospect,
commanding the whole dome of the sky. All individual dignity was
overpowered by the immensity of the whole view, which consisted more
particularly of the rivers Virnwy and Tannad, joining their waters with
the Severn; the lofty waterfall of Pystyll Rhaiadr—the Breddin Hills—and
the Ferwyn Mountains. The geological observations on Llanymynach Hill,
by Mr. Aikin, are so accurate, that to attempt any further description
would be deemed highly presumptuous in me; I shall therefore avail myself
of an account so ably delineated.
“The hill of Llanymynach is not only remarkable for the fine prospect
from its top, it is still more worthy notice, as containing by far the
most extensive lime works of any in this part of the country. The lime
of Llanymynach rock is in high request as a manure, and is sent by
land-carriage as far as Montgomery, New-town, and even Llanidloes: it
sells at the kilns for sevenpence a bushel; and from thirty to thirty-six
bushels are reckoned a waggon load; the coal with which it is burnt, is
brought partly from the neighbourhood of Oswestry, and partly from Sir
Watkin Williams Wynne’s pits, near Ruabon. The lime lies in strata,
parallel to the horizon, varying in thickness from three inches to five
feet; it is of an extraordinary hardness, with but little calcareous
spar, and few shells, or rather marine exuvial; its colour reddish brown,
burning to almost white. Between the strata of lime we found a very
tenacious smooth clay, orange-colour ochre, and green plumose carbonate
of copper, or malachite. It was in search of this copper that the Romans
carried on here such extensive works, of which the remains are still very
visible: they consist of a range of from twenty to thirty shallow pits,
the heaps of rubbish from the mouths of which abound with small pieces of
copper ore, and a cave of considerable dimensions, terminating in an
irregular winding passage of unknown length, connected with which are two
air-shafts still remaining open, and the appearances of several others
now filled up: in some of these caverns are found large and beautiful
specimens of stalactite. One of the levels was explored some years ago,
and in it was discovered a skeleton, with mining tools, and some Roman
copper coins. The whole mass of the hill seems more or less impregnated
with copper: wherever the surface is uncovered, there are evident marks
of the presence of this metal, and the stones composing the rampart of
Offa’s Dyke, which encompasses two sides of the hill, are in many parts
covered with cupreus efflorescences. Between the village and the rock
passes a branch of the Ellesmere canal, which, when navigable, will add
much to the value of these works, by rendering them more accessible to
the surrounding country, and may induce some spirited adventurer to
re-commence a search after copper, which, it is evident, was formerly
prosecuted with considerable success.”
This description of Llanymynach Hill we pronounce, from our own
observation, to be very accurate, so that the length of the quotation
will be readily excused. Leaving the pretty village of Llanymynach,
situated on the banks of the Virnwy, we resumed our journey to Welsh
Pool. The face of the country was pleasing; and we soon reached the
Breddin Hills, on whose summit a column is erected to commemorate the
victory of Admiral Lord Rodney over the French, in the year 1782. Not
far from hence we passed a handsome aqueduct, admirably constructed over
the river Virnwy, of great strength and stability. The vale of the
Severn affords much picturesque scenery, and we at length arrived at
WELSH POOL QUAY,
about three miles from that place. Several vessels were lying here,
which carry on a constant traffic with Worcester, and the towns situated
on the banks of this noble river. Before our entrée into Pool, Powis
Castle appeared on an eminence, immediately rising behind the town, and
beautifully backed by a large plantation of trees.
Welsh Pool derives its name from a black pool in its neighbourhood, (its
Welsh appellation signifying a quagmire or pool), and is one of the five
boroughs in Montgomeryshire, which jointly send a member to Parliament.
The town is by no means neat: it stands on a low hill, and consists of
one principal street, in which are situated the new county-hall and
market-places. The Severn is navigable within three quarters of a mile
of this town, which is computed at not less than two hundred miles from
its junction with the British channel. It is the great market for the
Welsh flannel, called gwart, or webb, prepared in many parts of
Merionethshire, and generally used for soldiers’ clothes. This trade,
however, has of late been very inconsiderable.
Powis Castle (anciently called Poole Castle) the seat of Lord Clive, lies
to the right, about one mile from Pool, on the ridge of a rock, retaining
a mixture of castle and mansion. Here Lucien Buonaparte lived several
years. It is built of red stone, and originally contained within its
walls two castles: the entrance is between two round towers. There are
several family portraits in a long gallery, measuring one hundred and
seventeen feet by twenty. The gardens still retain that stiff formality
so much in vogue many years ago; but the curious water-works, in
imitation of the wretched taste of St. Germains-en-Laye, are now
destroyed. The prospect from the castle is very extensive, comprehending
a view of Welsh Poole, Vale, and Freiddin Hills. From hence to
MONTGOMERY,
the Ellesmere canal accompanied us part of the way; and at length, after
a fatiguing walk, we reached the Green Dragon, a small and comfortable
inn. The site of Montgomery is very pleasing, on a gentle ascent, and
backed by a steep hill, beautifully clothed with the rich plantations
belonging to Lord Powis. The town itself is a straggling place, and has
little to recommend it. The remains of the castle are now too trifling
to interest the passing traveller.
In the year 1094, this castle was gallantly defended by the Normans; but
the Welsh, at last, finding means to undermine the walls, took it by
storm; and after putting the garrison to the sword, levelled it to the
ground. It was rebuilt by King Henry III., in the year 1221, as a check
to the incursions of the Welsh; but a second time razed to the ground by
Llewelyn the Great, Prince of Wales. It afterwards became the seat of
the ancestors of the Lord Herbert of Cherbury, who was born here, and
continued in possession of his descendants, till reduced to its present
ruinous condition by the civil wars.
The road to
BISHOP’S CASTLE
brought us through a very rich country; and, on ascending a hill, about
five miles from Montgomery, a retrospect of the far-distant mountainous
country of Wales, to which we were now bidding a last adieu, irresistibly
brought on a train of serious reflections. In a retrospect like this,
where the subject and the scene must inspire serious thoughts, such
traces are not unpleasing; they tend to promote one general effect—the
love of contemplation. We enumerated the little incidents which had
taken place, indulging reflections on scenes for ever past:—we erected on
the spot which we esteemed most adapted to retirement, the visionary
cottage: our schemes were instantly arranged: fancy fashioned its
ornaments, adapted its appendages,—and fancy will ever exceed realities.
But all our air-built plans of future happiness soon vanished: and, alas!
when
. . . “fancy scatters roses all around,
What blissful visions rise! In prospect bright
Awhile they charm the soul; but scarce attain’d,
The gay delusion fades. Another comes;
The soft enchantment is again renew’d,
And youth again enjoys the airy dreams
Of fancied good.”
Bishop’s Castle is situated in a bottom. We found it a more extensive
place than we expected; but being shortly convinced that there was
nothing particular to require a long stay, and having recruited ourselves
at the Castle Inn, we hastened to leave the town. The road, for the
first seven miles, continually dipped into shallow valleys, well wooded,
affording cursory views, with many a substantial farmer’s habitation
lurking amongst the trees. At length a rich and noble vale, with
extensive woods on our right, animated with several gentlemen’s seats,
and watered by an overflowing stream running immediately close to the
road accompanied us to
LUDLOW,
situated on an eminence in the midst of this most luxuriant country.
After the many indifferent Welsh towns which we had passed through since
the commencement of our pedestrian excursion, we felt ourselves not a
little chagrined at our uncouth appearance on entering so gay a place.
The streets are commodious, and the houses and public buildings extremely
neat. The gravel walks round the castle are extensive, and command, at
occasional points, distinct prospects of the gentlemen’s seats in the
neighbourhood, with their grounds and noble plantations. The river Teme
gives additional beauty to this fascinating spot: the new bridge recently
erected, a little below the castle, forms likewise, from this spot, by no
means an uninteresting object; add to this, at suitable distances, the
river, by means of dams, is formed into small artificial cascades. At
the extremity of the town is another bridge, separating the counties of
Shropshire and Hereford. These walks were laid out in the year 1772, by
the Countess of Powis, at a great expense. The overshadowing trees not
only afford refreshing shelter from a summer’s sun, but are likewise a
protection from the piercing winter’s wind: indeed,
. . . “I could rove
At morn, at noon, at eve, by lunar ray,
In each returning season, through your shade,
Ye rev’rend woods; could visit every dell,
Each hill, each breezy lawn, each wand’ring brook,
And bid the world admire; each magic spot again
Could seek, and tell again of all its charms.”
Towards the north, the mazy course of the Teme,—Oakley Park, the elegant
seat of the Dowager Lady Clive,—the Clee Hills,—the celebrated Caer
Caradoc, with the other eminences near Stretton, terminating the view,
present a most pleasing landscape. Towards the west, a combination of
rock, wood, and water, gratifies the warmest wish of fancy.
The Whitecliff, opposite to the castle, and Hackluyt’s Close, near the
Leominster road, are the two other most favourite walks; but that round
the castle is resorted to as the most fashionable promenade. The town of
Ludlow has been calculated to contain seven hundred and two houses, and
nearly three thousand five hundred and sixty-five persons. {299} The
public buildings are the market-house, the guildhall, the prison (called
Gaolford’s tower), and the cross. The rooms over the latter are
dedicated for the instruction of thirty poor boys, and fifteen poor
girls; and the former at a proper age are apprenticed out. The town
enjoys no particular manufactory, but its chief trade consists in the
article of gloves.