LLANRWST
is built upon the Denbighshire side of the river. The Three Eagles is the most commodious inn in the town; and, being rather fatigued, I threw my limbs upon a sofa, and resigned myself to the drowsy god, first taking especial care to order a substantial repast to be in readiness for me on my return from the land of Nod. My last waking recollection was the words of Mr. Lover’s favourite song,
“There’s no use at all in my going to bed,
For its dhrames and not sleep, that comes into my head.”
Dreams, however, did not picture my slumbers, and I awoke to the unrivalled delight of a weary and hungry traveller—an excellent hot dinner.
The following morning I employed in paying my respects to the different gentlemen to whom I had letters, and in gaining what information I could respecting the objects most worthy of notice in the town and surrounding neighbourhood.
The church and chapel adjoining were the first subjects to engage my attention. In the former there is nothing interesting, excepting an oaken screen, exquisitely carved, which was taken from the Abbey of Maenan, the gallery for the singers being above it. On the opposite side is the