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.
The difference between looking up and looking down a precipice is well
marked by Mr. Jefferson, in the account he furnished the Marquis de
Chastellux, of the Virginian bridge of rocks. “Though the sides of the
bridge,” says he, “are provided, in some parts, with a parapet of fixed
rocks, yet few men have resolution to walk to them, and look over into
the abyss. You voluntarily fall on your hands and feet, creep to the
parapet, and look over it. Looking from the height about a minute gave
me a violent head-ache. If the view from the top be painful and
intolerable, that from below is delightful in the extreme. It is
impossible for the emotions, arising from the sublime, to be felt beyond
what they are on the sight of so beautiful an arch; so elevated and so
light, springing up, as it were, to heaven. The rapture of the spectator
is indescribable.”
In keeping the direct line of road the traveller leaves behind him many
antiquities worthy of attention; Mr. Williams’s account of which, from
his being a resident near the spot, appearing to be the best, as well as
containing a most full and interesting description of the ancient Welsh
or British games, I shall transcribe: at the same time, strongly
recommending the work to such as wish to take a minute survey of this
county.—His route is reversed, “but as most strangers will, no doubt,
proceed from Conway to Bangor, it shall be my endeavour to act as their
guide, and mention some particulars which are worth their attention along
this road. For the first two miles he will proceed up hill, until he
comes to an opening between two rocks, near a place called Sychnant, when
all of a sudden a most magnificent scene presents itself. From hence, he
commands a full view of Beaumaris Bay, generally covered with a number of
small vessels; the Puffin, or Priestholm island, the village of Llangoed,
the town of Beaumaris, Baron-hill, and the Friars; the former, the
beautiful seat of the Lord Viscount Bulkeley, and the latter, that of his
brother, Sir Robert Williams, Bart. M.P., all on the Anglesea shore. On
the Caernarvonshire side, Bangor and Penrhyn Castle; and last, though not
least, the huge Penmaen-mawr, protruding its rocky front into the sea,
forming a natural barrier in such manner (to all appearance) as to cut
off every communication this way, and render any farther progress
impracticable. The art of man has, however, at length conquered these
difficulties, and surmounted every obstacle, for about the year 1772, an
excellent road was formed along the edge of this once tremendous and
dangerous precipice, under the direction of the ingenious Mr. Sylvester,
parliament having generously voted a grant for this purpose. Prior to
this event several fatal accidents had happened here; and one or two
nearly miraculous escapes are recorded in Pennant’s tour through North
Wales. At that time, no carriage passed this way, and consequently, all
the travelling was either on foot or on horseback. Dean Swift was
generally a pedestrian, and in one of his rambles he left these lines,
written on a pane of glass, at the old inn, (now a farm-house) near this
mountain:—
Before you venture here to pass,
Take a good refreshing glass;
And when you are over, take another,
Your fainting spirits to recover.
“Before the traveller descends from the top of Sychnant, just mentioned,
to the little vale Dwygyfylchi, he should deviate a little to the left,
in order to examine some antiquities, near a place called Gwddw Glâs, in
that parish. Here are several circles of stones, of various diameters,
and large Carneddau, viz. barrows, or tumuli; supposed to have been
memorials of those heroes who fell in the field of battle, as cistfaens,
or stone coffins, are frequently discovered in some of these circular
heaps or collection of stones. The principal circle now consists of ten
upright stones, at unequal distances: the largest is eight feet three
inches high; on the ground is another, eleven feet two inches; the
diameter of this circle is eighty feet.
“Near this are four other smaller circles; in the centre of one is a flat
stone, the remains of a cromlech, from which it may be conjectured, that
it was a Druidical or bardic circle. About a quarter of a mile from
these is a large circle, composed of small stones, and near it another of
large stones; and not far from these another circle, composed of smaller
stones.
“Near the last is a huge upright stone, called Maen y Campiau, or the
stone of games; and nearly contiguous is a carnedd, and a small circle of
twelve stones; adjoining to these are also a great number of what are now
called in this country, Cyttiau Gwyddelod, (woodmen or Irishmen’s huts)
being the foundations of small buildings, made of round stones; and the
vestige of a road is still visible in a direction from hence towards the
Conway. Some of these last, might probably have been the summer
habitations or encampment of a small detachment of the Roman legion,
stationed at Caer Rhun, or Conovium, for the purpose of protecting their
cattle.
“Having mentioned Maen y Campiau, it may not perhaps be considered a
digression to enumerate the twenty-four Welsh or British games, of which
there were ten _Gurolgampau_, or manly games; viz. 1. to lift up great
weights; 2. running; 3. leaping; 4. swimming; 5. wrestling; 6. riding.
These six were styled Tadogion, viz. pertaining to fathers, or grown up
persons, and required only bodily strength and activity; this last,
Marchogaeth, is supposed to have included charioteering, or the skilful
driving and management of different kinds of carriages. The other four
were, 1. archery; 2. playing with the sword and buckler; 3. playing with
the Cledda deuddwrn, or two-handed sword; 4. Chwarau ffoun ddwybig, or
playing with the two-end staff or spear. Next to these were the ten
_Mabolgampau_, or those more peculiarly adapted to young men; viz. 1.
coursing; 2. fishing; 3. fowling; the remaining seven were of the
domestic kind; 1. Barddoniaeth, or poetical composition; 2. Chwareu’r,
Delyn, or playing upon the harp; 3. reading Welsh; 4. singing with the
harp; 5. singing between three or four, most probably in alternate
stanzas, or Pennillion; 6. drawing or painting, particularly coats of
arms; 7. heraldry. After these were four _Gogampiau_, or minor games;
viz. 1. Chwarau Gwydd-bwyll, a game similar to that of draughts; 2.
Chwarau Tawl-Bwrdd, probably back-gammon, as this word is supposed to be
derived from the Welsh language; viz. Back, little, and Cammawn, or
Gammon, Battle; and Tawl-Burdd, means the toss on the table; 3. Chwarau
Ffristeal, or the game of the dice-box; in what manner it was played is
not known at present; 4. Cyweiriaw Telyn, or the tuning of the harp.
“After visiting these circles, the traveller may either proceed to the
top of Pen-maen-mawr, or descend to the high road, near Dygyfylchi
church, not far from which, just at the foot of Pen-maen-bach, is
Pendyffryn, the seat of T. Smith, Esq. In the clefts of the rocks, above
the turnpike-gate, near Pen-maen-mawr, grows the Cratægus Aria, or white
beam-tree. Mr. Pennant observes, the Swiss procure a good kind of ardent
spirit from the berries. The summit of this mountain seems to have been
fortified by two or three walls, one within the other; and there are
still visible the remains of a great number of huts, or small buildings,
most probably at one time, the habitations of soldiers; it was, no doubt,
a strong military post, and is supposed to have been made use of by the
Britons and Romans. The Roman road from Segontium to Conovium must have
passed near it, probably on the south side; and this high mountain, so
conspicuous and so easily distinguished at a distance, formed a kind of
link, no doubt, in the military chain of communication between this
county and Denbyshire, as it is very visible from Dinorwick, (now called
Pen Dinas), a Roman encampment in the parish of Llandeiniolen, near
Caernarvon on the west, and from many fortified eminences in the other
county, on the east. The usual signals in ancient times were fires by
night, and a particular kind of flag by day. Having examined the immense
ruins of Braich y Dinas, we now proceed along the high road, through the
parish of Llanfairfechan; and leaving that small church, on an eminence,
a little to the left of the road, and on the right, Brynn y Neuadd, an
old neglected family seat, at one time the property of Humphrey Roberts,
Esq. and afterwards conveyed to the Wynnes of Plas Newydd, near Denbigh,
by the marriage of his daughter to a son of that family; we soon pass
Gorddinog,” &c. _Williams_.
Pursuing a good turnpike-road from Mrs. Crawley’s, we presently came in
sight of the towers of