The Cambrian Directory [1800]; Or, Cursory Sketches of the Welsh Territories. / With a Chart, Comprehending at One View, the Advisable Route, Best Inns, Distances, and Objects Most Worthy of Attention.

by Anonymous

ABERGELE,

we observed, on our right, two immense caverns, about half way up the mountain; they are called Cavern-arogo, and run four or five hundred yards into the ground; but their real extent has never yet been ascertained with accuracy. From these mountains, vast quantities of lime are shipped for Liverpool, and many parts of England; they are said to be inexhaustible.

Abergele, situated on the edge of Rhuddlan Marsh, is a small neat town, of one street, resorted to in the summer-season for bathing. The sands afford excellent walking; in the evening we lingered on the beach for a considerable time, enjoying the calm, but cheerful beauty of Nature, and inhaling the pure sea-breeze—for,

“—The wind was hush’d,
And to the beach each slowly-lifted wave,
Creeping with silver curl, just kist the shore,
And slept in silence.”—

Mason’s Garden.

With pleasure, mixed with reverential awe, we trod Rhuddlan Marsh, so celebrated in the annals of history. Here the ill-fated Richard the Second was betrayed into the hands of Bolinbroke, and taken prisoner to Flint: here the famous King [131] of Mercia met his untimely death: here the Welsh, under the command of Caradoc, in the year 795, were defeated in a conflict with the Saxons, and their leader slain in the action. This memorable and tragical event is handed down to posterity, by an ancient celebrated ballad, called Morva Rhuddlan, or the Marsh of Rhuddlan, composed by the bards on the death of Prince Caradoc.

The ground we trod, connected with so many events, revived in our minds, the memory of past ages, a series of historical events came to our recollection; events, that are now so distant, as almost to be obliterated from the page of history. Passing over a bridge of two arches, thrown over the river Clwyd, we entered

RHUDDLAN,

once the largest and most respectable town in North-Wales. Walking over the ruins of the castle, I recurred, by a natural association of ideas, to the times, when the Parliament-house, the balls, and courts echoed with the voices of those, who have long since been swept from the earth, by the unerring hand of death. One solitary Gothic window is now only remaining, to distinguish the old Parliament-house, where Edward the First instituted that famous code of laws, under the title of the Statute of Rhuddlan, from a neighbouring barn; and, what once contained the Parliament of England, now contains nothing but bark for the supply of a tan-yard.

The old castle is built of red stone; it consists of a square area, strongly fortified with a wall: this court we entered through the grand gate-way, between two round towers: the opposite side corresponds. The whole is encircled by a deep entrenchment, faced with stone on the river side, with two square towers, one of which still remains.

The road from hence to

ST. ASAPH,

affords a most rich and beautiful walk, extending along the celebrated vale of Clwyd. This rich tract of land, called, The Eden of North-Wales, extends in length about twenty-five miles, and in breadth about eight. The neighbourhood of Ruthin afford the best view of this vale: though it is by no means so interesting and romantic, as the vale of Glamorganshire, yet its high cultivation, and picturesque, but moderate height of the hills, rising on each side of the river Clwyd, renders the scenery pleasing: its chief produce is corn. Both these vales claim the attention of the traveller; and both have to boast of particular beauties. One mile from St. Asaph, we passed, on our right, the elegant seat of Sir Edward Lloyd. We still followed the banks the Clwyd, and at the farthest extremity a light elegant bridge, of seven arches, with the dark Tower of St. Asaph’s Cathedral, rising on an eminence just over it, gave a picturesque effect to the whole scenery.

The town itself is built on a hill, in one strait line, with a few neat houses. The Cathedral naturally demands attention; the inside is remarkably neat and elegant, entirely Gothic, with the ceiling of chesnut, and open ribs, like the skeleton of a ship: it has lately been repaired by Mr. Turner, architect of Whitchurch, at the great expence of two thousand four hundred pounds. The monument of David ap Owen, Bishop of this diocese, was particularly pointed out to us. The Bishop’s Palace has been entirely rebuilt by the present diocesan. The Choir consists of a Bishop, Dean, six Canons, seven Prebends, and four Vicars. There are no monuments in the church-yard, and few of any importance within its venerable walls.

St. Asaph receives its derivation from its patron, who established a Bishop’s see here, in the year 590: but in British it is named Llan-Elwy, on account of the conflux of the Elwy with the Clywd. It is singular, that the Bishop’s jurisdiction extends over no entire county, but part of Flintshire, Denbighshire, Montgomeryshire, Merionethshire, and Shropshire.

The tract of land extending from hence to