(pronounced _Llangothlen_) completely environed with mountains, with a
high hill to our right, bearing on its narrow peak the small remains of
Castel Dinas Bran. 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: it is now repairing.
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 stile, an elegant
little cottage, at the west extremity of the town, situated on a knole:
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 iv’d arch glitt’ring thro’ 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 sigh 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 {151a} smile?
Did Zara’s {151b} 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_, {151c} 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 Bran, 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, Wynstay Park,
{152} 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. 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 Bran 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 chaunt, now repeat the
rude dissonance of ducks, cows, 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 in their melancholy grove of ash-trees, 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 skreened, 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
Maylor, in the year 1200, and is sometimes called Llan-Egwiste, or
Llanegwast. In this vale is 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