CAERNARVON.
| Bangor | 9 |
| Beaumaris | 14 |
| Beddgelert | 13 |
| Capel Curig | 17 |
| Dolbadarn Castle | 10 |
| Ffestiniog | 25 |
| Llanberis | 8 |
| London by Chester | 254 |
| — by Shrewsbury | 236 |
| Pwllheli | 20 |
| Tan-y-Bwlch | 23 |
| Tre-Madoc | 20 |
Caernarvon is the capital of the county, and is one of the largest and best towns in North Wales. It name is properly Caer yn Arvon, which signifies a walled town in the district opposite to Anglesea. Ar Vôn or Ar Môn implies opposite to Mona.
“Caernarvon (we adopt the interesting and elegant description of Mr. Roscoe,) is built on a peninsula, formed by the Menai on the west and north sides, and by the Seiont on the south. It was formerly enclosed by walls, defended by a chain of round towers, which on three sides are still nearly entire. In former times there were but two gates through which the inhabitants passed, but other openings have been more recently made to form communications with the suburbs, which are rapidly extending. The town-hall is over one of the ancient gates of the town.
A terrace, extending from the quay to the north end of the walls, offers a delightful promenade, and presents a variety of interesting objects around the port, which is daily rising into greater importance by receiving and dispensing the fruits of industry and commerce. This terrace, Mr. Bransby observes, possesses the powerful recommendation of being always clean, and of soon becoming dry after heavy and continued rain. From this walk to behold the sun on a calm summer evening, as he goes down ‘in a paradise of clouds’ behind the Anglesea hills, is to witness one of the most lovely and glorious spectacles in nature. On an eminence called the Twt-hill, near the Uxbridge Arms Hotel, is a most extensive and varied panoramic view, including part of the Snowdonian range,—the isle of Anglesea, with its plains, farms, and villas, backed by the mountains of Holyhead and Parys,—the swelling Menai,—and the blue and spacious bay, with the sea stretching far beyond.
The harbour and the pier have both undergone very great improvement, and ships of considerable burthen can now come up alongside the quay. An extensive trade is carried on with Liverpool, Dublin, Bristol, Swansea, &c., besides a lucrative coast trade, exchanging the invaluable mineral substances of this part of the Principality for timber and other articles. Slates are brought here as to the general depôt from the quarries about Llanberis and Llanllyfni; and the country people of all ranks resort hither, as the best and cheapest market, from a considerable distance.
The market-house, erected by the corporation, the Uxbridge Arms Hotel, by the Marquis of Anglesea, a number of excellent inns, among which stand foremost the Goat Hotel and the Sportsman, with hot and cold baths, and a billiard-room, render the modern town as pleasant and commodious a place of residence as the most fastidious nabob,—to say nothing of hardy Welshmen and pedestrian ramblers,—could possibly desire.
Caernarvon is resorted to as a bathing place, and by invalids seeking health and amusement, for a temporary residence. There are here the advantages of a genteel neighbourhood as well as salubrious air; and the rambler in quest of romantic scenery frequently makes this town his head quarters. Besides many pleasant walks and rides in the immediate vicinity, within the circle of a dozen miles are the Menai Straits as far as Bangor, Llanberis, Snowdon, Plâs Newydd, and Beddgelert, offering not only inducements to those in search of the picturesque, but affording a source of continued gratification to the botanist, mineralogist, and antiquary.
The parish church of Caernarvon is at Llanbeblig, and stands in its loneliness at the distance of half a mile to the south-east of the castle wall. It is a structure of great antiquity, and contains the altar-tomb of Sir William Gruffydd (a member of the Penrhyn family) and Margaret, his wife. The knight mailed in armour, and the lady in the full dress of the age, are sculptured in white marble, and lie side by side. English service is performed at a chapel of ease at Caernarvon, close to the castle; but in this venerable little place the service is conducted in Welsh. The churchyard exhibits the peculiarities which give a touching interest to some of the burying places of the Principality. Flowers of all colours, but especially snowdrops, violets, and pale primroses, display their beauty and expend their perfume on the graves of children, and maidens ‘that die unmarried,’ while branches of the box, arbutus, and laurel, with shrubs of a firm and sombre hue, mark the resting places of the more matured in this ‘City of the Silent.’
For its ample and magnificent feudal structure,—almost terrible to the eye,—Caernarvon is indebted to the first Edward, who raised this colossal castle—as if in derision of the poor tenure of all sovereign power—near the ruins of the great Roman station. Soon after his conquest, Edward began the stupendous pile, which served less to overawe the Welsh than for a magnificent ruin and a modern wonder. The remains of Segontium furnished part of the materials, bright grey limestone, of exceeding durability, was brought from Twr Celyn, in Anglesea, and grit-stone, for the windows and arches, from Vaenol, between Caernarvon and Bangor.
Vast, irregular, and more shattered than its exterior grandeur would lead us to suppose, this giant-fortress stretches far along the west of the town, its broad spreading walls being surmounted, at intervals, with octagonal towers. The extent of the courts, the gateways, and the towers, bear equal witness to those noble proportions which astonish the modern architect, as from its Eagle-turrets he commands the whole of its magnificent area, and the wide sweeping circuit of its walls.
Opposite the massive Eagle tower, in which the unfortunate Edward the Second was born, is the Queen’s Gate, [76] which had two portcullises that communicated with a drawbridge across the moat. Over the embattled parapet are seen the turrets rising majestically above the solitary ruins, bounded on two sides by the water; the third bears traces of a large ditch; on the north-east side is a deep well, nearly filled up, with a round tower contiguous to it, apparently the ancient dungeon. The exterior, and especially the main entrance, has an air of forlorn grandeur, blended with massy strength, which must at all times excite admiration and awe in the beholder. The area within is irregularly oblong, and was divided into an outer and inner court. The external walls of the castle, enclosing an area of great extent, are nearly as perfect as when they were built, and of considerable height and thickness.
The state apartments appear to have been spacious, commodious, and handsomely ornamented; the windows wide, and enriched with elegant tracery. The form is polygonal, though the exterior of the edifice presents a complete square. The floors and staircases are considerably injured—in many places wholly demolished. A gallery extended round the entire fortress, to serve as a means of communication in times of danger, and during a siege. It lay close to the outer walls, and was provided with narrow slips, adapted for stations, from which to annoy an enemy with arrows or other missiles as occasion might require. But its time-worn and ivy-covered bulwarks are now fast yielding, like the interior, to the assaults of time. Some years ago the Eagle tower, struck by lightning, was split down several yards from the summit, giving it still more the aspect of a splendid ruin.
It was evening, as I before said, when I first caught sight of the castle. The sun’s disk had sunk below the horizon, but his refracted rays still played upon that imaginary line ‘which parts the day and night,’ casting an attenuated melancholy grace over the crumbling fortress. I lingered amongst those ruins till the last vestige of light was withdrawn, except such as is bestowed by a clear blue firmament emblazoned with burning stars. As I gazed, the phantoms of history passed rapidly before my mental eye, with an order and truth like unto the facts treasured in her pages, and with a realizing illusion that converted me into an actual spectator of the scenes. From the topmost point of the Eagle Tower a prophetic voice seemed to issue, dispelling the delusion that in those days clung to the hearts of the stricken Cambrians, that their own-loved Arthur would again appear to raise up their fast-falling nation to its former glory. I saw the stern conqueror buckling on his armour, after the Easter festival, resolute to conquer or exterminate the defenders of that ancient land. I heard the wailing of that dark and stormy night of Palm Sunday, when the strong hold of Hawarden fell before his victorious sword. I tracked the line of march his countless legions took through the deep forest, reaching, in ancient times, from the confines of Cheshire to the mountains of Snowdon, leaving Flint and Rhuddlan still frowning in their perilled rear; and I looked upon the picture of that onslaught at the bridge of Moel-y-don, when an English knight was seen buffeting the waves of Menai, and alone escaped to tell the tale of national vengeance. The panorama shifted, and another pictured page discovered that gallant prince, the last of his race who held the sceptre of the Cymri, slowly retreating before his haughty foe into the mountain holds hard by,—dispirited, though not despairing,—cursed by the priest whom Edward brought to curse him,—deluded by the soothsayer, whose prophecy bore ‘a double sense,’ too fatally fulfilled in his own person,—deserted by many of his friends, and his affianced wife basely held a captive in the hands of his enemy. The scene then moved; the undaunted hero still struggled with his fate, once the sovereign of the whole land, now only lord of the five baronies of Snowdon,—goaded by the insults of his mean conqueror,—maddened into open war,—betrayed by his base confederate lords,—and perishing alone and defenceless in the solitary recesses of a wood. Such was the strange eventful story; and that castle which marked the triumph of the conqueror, and the subjection of the people—which heard the infant cries of the first English prince of this cheated land—which opened wide at midnight its gates to troops of warrior-knights belonging to an alien country—which rung again and again with the rude revelry of that barbarous age, when the pageant and tournament of Nefyn was ended,—and which in the days of its strength, passed into the hands of foes, and friends, and fratricides,—that castle in its gaunt ruins, yet remained as the monument of these records, and the tomb in which past ages silently slept.”
A rail-road has lately been formed from Llanllyfni to Caernarvon, a distance of more than nine miles, for the purpose of conveying the copper ore and slates to the quay.
A most interesting part of the Menai Straits is connected with Caernarvon. Tourists may enjoy boating in perfection, either on the Tal-y-Foel ferry, the new ferry at Barris, to which a good road has recently been made, through the lands of the Marquis of Anglesea, by his free permission; or to Aber-mania, at the mouth or gap of the straits, and then to Llanddwyn, where are the remains of an old abbey. On the opposite side the gap to Aber-mania is St. David’s Fort, a marine residence of Lord Newborough, well worth a visit, and where the domestics shew the greatest civility. A few miles to the northward, on the east coast of Caernarvon bay, is Dinas Dinlle, an old Roman station of artificial formation.
Caernarvon is remarkable for having been the first town in the principality that enjoyed the privilege of a royal charter, which was granted by Edward the First. The government of the place was rested in a mayor (who is always constable of the castle), two bailiffs, a recorder, burgesses, &c. before the passing of the municipal reform act; now it is under the provisions of that act. In conjunction with the boroughs of Conway, Criccieth. Nevin, Pwllheli, and Bangor, Caernarvon returns a member to parliament. The member in the present parliament is W. B. Hughes, Esq.
There are two banks, viz. Messrs. Williams & Co. commonly known as the old bank, and which is in connection with the banks of the same firm at Chester and Bangor; and a branch of the North and South Wales bank. Coaches pass several times each day between this place and Bangor, and the mail leaves every morning for Pwllheli through Clynog; and for Barmouth, through Beddgelert, Tremadoc, Tan-y-bwlch, and Harlech.
Caernarvon castle is now undergoing considerable repairs, under the authority of the Commissioners of Woods and Forests.
It is more than probable, that the town of Caernarvon had its origin in the Roman city of Segontium, about half a mile distant, and that it is not, as many have supposed, indebted for its name to Edward the First; for the fort in Arvon, or in the hundred opposite to Anglesea, as the name indicates, would apply with equal propriety to the ancient city as to this more modern fortress. The town, however, there is no doubt, was the creation of Edward, and it was most probably formed from the ruins of the old station. The site of the ancient city of Segontium lies about half a mile south of Caernarvon, the ancient Roman station mentioned in the Itinerary of Antonius. This appears to have been the principal station that the Romans had in North Wales, all the rest being only subordinate stations. It received its name from the river Seiont, which rises in the lower lake of Llanberis, passes under the walls, and discharges itself into the Menai near Caernarvon castle. Its form was an oblong; and it appears originally to have occupied about six acres of ground. Not far hence was the fort which belonged to it: this was also of an oblong figure, and stood upon about an acre of ground. The walls are at present about eleven feet high, and six in thickness, and at each corner there has formerly been a tower. A chapel, said to be founded by Helen, daughter of Octavius, Duke of Cornwall, and a well which bears her name, are amongst the ruins still pointed out. The chapel was standing little more than a century ago. The old Roman road from the station of Dinas Dinorwic, in Llanddeiniolen, to Dinas Dinlle, on the shore of Caernarvon bay, lay through Caernarvon. Both stations are worth the attention of the antiquary.
CAERWYS,
(Flintshire.)
| Chester | 23 |
| Denbigh | 7½ |
| Holywell | 6 |
| London | 212 |
| Mold | 12 |
| St. Asaph | 7 |
Caerwys, formerly a market town, with the parish of the same name, contains about 1000 inhabitants, being situated on the high road leading from Holywell to Denbigh, through the beautiful Vale of Clwyd. Caerwys has the most considerable fairs for cattle, sheep, pigs, and horses, in all the country, though its markets have long since failed. The market-house still remains, but it has been converted, time out of mind, into a dwelling-house. It is close to the cross; to the S. W. the arches are yet plainly to be seen, though filled up; and the remains of an erect south dial are yet distinctly to be seen in the south wall.
A few hundred yards to the west, is a most beautiful dingle, known by the name of Maesmynan Wort, offering a pleasant ramble to the admirer of nature and the botanist. Near the place where the brook, which runs through this dingle by Maesmynan House, empties itself into the Wheeler, was formerly the residence of Llywelyn ab Gruffydd, the last native prince of Wales: a cottage, now called Pandy, shews the place where the prince resided.
Among the towns of the Principality, this was formerly a place of great renown, but its glory has faded away, and nought remains to evince its ancient consequence but its name. This is a compound of the two words, Caer, a city, and gwŷs, a summons, notifying its having been a place of judicature. The assizes for the county were held in the town of Caerwys till about the middle of the seventeenth century, when they were removed to Flint; the goal is yet remaining, though converted into a dwelling-house, called Yr hên Gaol. This still continues to be one of the contributory boroughs for the return of a member to parliament. Mr. Pennant, upwards of fifty years ago, describes Caerwys as a “town mouldering away with age.” The chief boast of this town was its being the olympia of North Wales, the theatre where the British bards poured forth their extemporaneous effusions,
“In thoughts that breathe, and words that burn;”
and where the honoured minstrels awakened
“Their harps to soul-enchanting melody,
And gave to rapture all their trembling strings.”
Here were held the ancient Eisteddvodau, or congresses of bards and minstrels, where judges presided, appointed by special commission from the Princes of Wales previous to the conquest, and from the Kings of England after that event. These arbiters were bound to pronounce justly and impartially on the talents of the respective candidates, and grant degrees according to merit. The bards were formed into a college, the members of which had particular privileges to be enjoyed by none but such as were admitted to their degrees, and licensed by the judges. The last commission granted by royal authority for holding this court of Apollo seems to have been in the 9th of Elizabeth, when Sir Richard Bulkeley, knt. and certain other persons were empowered to make proclamation in the towns of North Wales, that all persons intending to follow the profession of bards, &c. should appear before them at Caerwys on a certain day, in order to give proofs of their talents in the science of music, and to receive licenses to practise the same. The meeting was numerous, and fifty-five persons were admitted to their degrees. From this period, these meetings were discontinued at Caerwys and throughout the Principality: the minstrel ceased to be considered a venerable character in England, and our monarchs looked, probably, with equal contempt on the bards of Wales. Thus neglected and despised, the Eisteddvodau dwindled to nothing, and reposed in oblivion for many years.
Towards the close of the last century, some spirited Welsh gentlemen, who had the honour of their national harmony and literature at heart, determined to revive a meeting likely to preserve and encourage that music and language, the excellence of which has for ages been enthusiastically admired by their countrymen. In the spring of 1798, their resolution was carried into effect; and an Eisteddvod was held at Caerwys, the ancient place of meeting. Since this period, Eisteddvodau have been frequent in different parts of the Principality.
CAPEL CURIG,
(Caernarvonshire,)
| Bangor | 14½ |
| Beddgelert | 12 |
| Caernarvon | 17 |
| Cerniogau Mawr | 15 |
| Ffestiniog | 20 |
| Llanberis | 10 |
| Llanrwst | 10 |
| Menai Bridge | 17 |
Capel Curig is most beautifully situated on the London and Holyhead road. From its vicinity to Snowdon and other mountains of note in this part of the Principality, and to several of the first lakes in North Wales, it has been for a long time much frequented by tourists; and since the diversion of the great Holyhead road through Nant Ffrancon, and the erection of a spacious hotel here by the late Lord Penrhyn, has become a place of fashionable resort, and during the summer season is visited by many families of distinction. A new line of road from this place to Caernarvon, through the pass of Llanberis, at the foot of Snowdon, has lately been opened, affording a more direct communication with the interior of the counties of Caernarvon and Merioneth.
In this vale there is a lovely variety both of wood and water. The name is derived from its chapel, dedicated to a Welsh saint called Curig, situate a short distance from the inn. He is mentioned in an old Welsh poem, which, however, only intimates his order, and nothing more is at present known of him.
Capel Curig is situated in a district abounding with mineral wealth. A great quantity of calamine has been obtained here, and in the vicinity is found the broad primitive rock called serpentine. Near a place called Bryn Gwaliau, between Capel Curig and Llanrwst, there are some remains of a Roman edifice, a great part of which has been removed for building materials: one of the apartments was found by Mr. Lysons to be sixty feet by twenty in dimensions, and another eighteen feet six inches square, in which latter were several short square pillars of stone, similar to those of the hypocaust near the Feathers hotel in Chester.
Behind the inn at Capel Curig westward are two lakes connected by a stream, on which a boat is kept, and frequently employed by visitors in aquatic excursions. At the foot of the lake there is an ancient rustic bridge, from which, as well as from the lake, is a fine view of old Snowdon and his proud associates.—At a short distance from the hotel southward, rises the mountain of
Moel Siabod,
Whose height is 2878 feet: it is exceedingly precipitous, especially on that side towards Bettws-y-Coed, and the summit is thickly strewed with loose fragments. From this commanding station is a most magnificent view of the mountains of Snowdonia, of nine different lakes, and “ocean’s dim immensity.” The distance from the inn to the summit is about three miles and a half.—Beneath Moel Siabod, towards the east, and about five miles from Capel Curig, is
Dolwyddelan Castle,
Said to have been built about the year 500. It is situated on a high rock, inaccessible on one side, and consists of two square towers, one 40 feet by 25, the other 31 feet by 20, and a court in the middle. This old ruin, entirely enclosed by mountains, built probably by some of the princes of North Wales, though its original founder and the time of its erection are unknown. Iorwerth Drwyndwn made this castle his residence, and his son, Llywelyn the Great, is said to have been born at this place. It was a fortress of considerable importance to the Welsh, but a few decaying relics now serve to mark the site of its former power and grandeur. Recent investigations render it probable that this was the last stronghold in North Wales that held out against Edward the First. In the royal roll of expenditure of that period, appear items of payments to an earl, a knight, and a squire, for bringing news to the Queen, at Rhuddlan, where the army of reserve was stationed whilst Edward was pursuing his successes in the Snowdonian mountains, of the reduction of this fortress; and the date corresponds with the close of the resistance and capture of David, the brother of Llywelyn. The village of Dolwyddelan stands within about a mile of the castle, and consists of only a few small cottages.
Three miles and a half from Capel Curig, on the left of the road toward Bettws, is the celebrated cataract of
Rhaiadr-y-Wennol,
(Or the Waterfall of the Swallow.) The scenery around this truly beautiful and picturesque fall, formed by the little river Llugwy, is truly grand; the water at the top is in one body, but soon becomes broken into many streams, dashing impetuously over large masses of rock, which impede its progress, down a rugged chasm of sixty feet wide at the broadest part, The high banks of the ravine are wooded, the trees hanging beautifully over the torrent, and the ground is richly carpetted with mosses and various wild flowers. From the upper part of the wood, near the head of the fall, there is a very good view of the descending flood; a path from the high road leads to the fall, and a little wicket gate has been placed in the wall on the road side, for the convenience of visitors who may wish to obtain a view of this sublime scene, which, although contiguous to the road, is so obscured in the wood, that the traveller will almost certainly pass it unawares, unless he makes timely enquiry: it may, however, be discovered by a summer-house which has lately been built on the top of a mountain directly over the fall.
About four miles from Capel Curig, on the Bangor road, is situated
Lake Ogwen,
From whence issues the river Ogwen. This lake is well stocked with excellent trout of a peculiar colour and flavour, surpassing in these respects all fish found in the Caernarvonshire lakes; they are of a bright yellow cast in the water, though when eaten they have a fine salmon colour; they are easily taken with the fly. The surplus water of this lake discharges itself at the western end, through a chasm in the rocks, tumbling in three noble cataracts down a height of about one hundred feet, called the Falls of Benglog, which are concentrated into a bed in the luxuriant and beautifully green meadows of
Nant Ffrancon,
(Or the Beaver’s Hollow), so called from having been the resort of those animals. This is a romantic and tremendous glen, destitute of wood, and even of cultivation, except the narrow slip of a meadow which lies along its bottom. The fantastic piles of rocks which compose its sides, rise abruptly from their base, and stretch their barren points into the clouds. The Holyhead and London road passes through the whole extent.
In 1685, part of a rock, forming one of the impending cliffs, became so undermined by wind and rain, that loosing its hold, it fell in several immense masses, and in its passage down a steep and craggy cliff, dislodged some thousands of other stones. The largest piece of the falling rock continued its motion through a small meadow, and rested on the further side of the river Ogwen. In the winter of 1831, another part of the rock gave way, when upwards of one thousand tons fell from near the summit of Benglog, a little below the Ogwen cataracts; part rolling straight across the road, fell into the valley and river at the bottom; while another part having acquired a less momentum, rested on the road; the intercourse of travellers was for some time impeded, although one hundred miners were engaged in clearing the surface of the road. A gentleman from the vale of Llanrwst had just passed along in his carriage, on his way to Bangor, when the terrific sound of the dissolving mountain fell upon his astonished ear.
The mountains at the upper end of this vale form a scene singularly grand; on each side the hollow appears guarded by a huge conical rock, Trivaen on the right, and Braich-dû on the left. These, with the Glyder-vach and the Glyder-vawr, and some other mountains, fill up the distance, and apparently close the vale.
Near this place, beside a little gothic cottage, is a small hone quarry, Y Trivaen, which received its name from three tall stones standing in an upright position on its summit, and from below had the exact resemblance of three men. Of these only two remain.
One mile from Ogwen lake, in a deep valley, lies a dark pool, called
Llyn Idwal.
The gloomy horrors of the surrounding scenery exceed even those of Ogwen; the encircling cliffs are overhanging, broken, and dark; in one part the whole mountain is rent asunder, and the chasm of Twll dû (or the Black Cleft) gapes between the terrific masses. The solitude of Cwm Idwal proved favourable to the perpetration of a deed of blood, and it was here that young Idwal, the infant heir of Prince Owen Gwynedd, was treacherously assassinated, by order of his foster-father Nefydd, to whose care his father had consigned him.
Miss Costello gives the following description of this romantic region:—
“We were not induced to linger very long in the slate quarries, being more desirous to make ourselves acquainted with the undisturbed nature which invited us on the way to Capel Curig.
“The Vale of Nant Ffrancon is wild and stupendous in the extreme; it is an extensive marshy valley, filled with peat, whose black masses are piled in all directions in stacks; numerous alleys filled with the water which drains from it, are cut through the turf on whose surface the graceful cotton plant waves its feathery and snowy tresses, covering the swampy ground, and lending it beauty; numerous water flowers of bright colour give some life to the scene, which would otherwise be inexpressibly dreary. Huge masses of crumbling rocks bind in the narrow valley, and assume the strangest and most grotesque shapes, as though the visions of the Welsh bard, Davydd ap Gwilym, were realized, and
“‘There were in every hollow
A hundred wry-mouthed elves.’
“Indeed, the famous and dreaded family of the Ellyllon, who are fond of coming forth in mist and rain, seemed to have pursued and overtaken us just as we had nearly reached the gloomy, dark, and secluded lake of Ogwen. The clouds grew darker, and rolled in heavy masses through the valley, and down the sides of the hills—a chill and hollow wind rose and whistled fearfully along the pass—large drops of rain began to fall, and we thought there was no escape from one of those storms so frequent in these regions; but the spirits sulked themselves into good humour, and did not force us to choose the usual alternative of travellers who fall into their power, for they are said to insist on their taking the uncomfortable choice of three methods of continuing their journey: to go with them ‘above the wind, mid wind, or below the wind:’ the first is to be whirled above the tops of the mountains at more than rail-road speed; the last to be hurried along, through brakes and briars, against stones and amongst bogs; and the middle way, generally preferred by those who have experience in the freaks of these elves, is to accompany them at a moderate distance in the air just clearing every obstacle.
“We contrived to gain the shore of lake Ogwen unmolested by all the imps and demons, who seemed to have come on the wings of the blast from their modern retreat on the pedestals of Penrhyn Castle, to visit the haunts where they dwelt in days of yore, before every rock was attacked for its mineral wealth as it is now. On the borders of this solemn lake, however, the miner’s hammer is unheard; all is solitary grandeur and gloomy sublimity: mountains are piled on each other, and appear to crowd together round the lake, pressing its dark waters into a small space, deep and generally still, though ruffled when we saw it, by the rushing wind that swept through the hollow of Nant Ffrancon.
“The river Ogwen issues from this lake, and the accumulated waters which its rocky basin is unable to contain force their way through a chasm in the rocks, and fall with tremendous force in three cataracts, called the Falls of Benglog.
“Solemn and silent as Ogwen appears, it is less fearful and solitary than another dark lake situated high up amongst the mountains in the vicinity, called Llyn Idwal, where, in the early times of Welsh history, it is recorded, that Idwal, the infant heir of Prince Owen Gwynedd, was drowned by the hand of his foster-father, when
“‘No human ear but Dunawt’s [87] heard
Young Idwal’s dying scream.’
“The cliffs that encircle this lake are split into a thousand fearful shapes, and a mighty chasm yawns between, called Twll dû, which is said to be the abode of the unquiet soul of the murderer and the howling and exulting demon who torments him for his hateful crime—a crime
“‘Most foul, strange, and unnatural.’
“No bird will ever dip his wing in that lake, nor pause near its waters.
“Nothing can exceed the horror of this spot: the breach in the black rock is like that produced by the Sword of Roland in the Pyrenees, but no cheering prospect of far lands opens through: here all is dark, fearful, and tremendously appalling.
“The Twll dû is sometimes called the Devil’s Kitchen; the waters of the lake rush impetuously through its chasm. In memory of the tragedy acted here, the fish, of which there was formerly a profusion, were all deprived, according to received tradition, of one eye, the left being closed: as there are now no fish in the lake, it is impossible to verify the truth of this legend.
“This neighbourhood is the chosen abode of demons and strange monsters; and once upon a time, it is said, that a hunter pursuing the chase in the valleys between these mountains saw suddenly, perched on a rock, an extraordinary animal, such as had never before been beheld. It was hunched like a buffalo, and was covered with tufts of hair which shone like gold. The daring hunter pursued it over every obstacle, till he had nearly reached the Twll dû, when he overtook and slew it; but he gained little by his exploit, for the animal bellowed so loud that the rocks split in all directions; and neither the huntsman nor his prey was seen afterwards.
“The pretty inn at Capel Curig is built of slate, walls and roof and flights of steps, all of a shining grey, contrasting oddly with its gay garden of roses which lies beneath. From this garden is a fine view of Snowdon and its lake, with mountain scenery of great sublimity on all sides. The graceful bridge over Gwyryd is a beautiful object in the distance: while Snowdon, Moel Siabod, and the three sister lakes linked together, which extend along this charming valley, lie all before the eye.”
CERIG-Y-DRUIDION,
(Denbighshire.)
| Cerniogau | 3 |
| Corwen | 10 |
| Llanrwst | 14 |
| Pont-y-Glyn | 4½ |
| Ruthin | 15 |
This is a pleasant village, so named from its being supposed to have been the abode of the Druids. In Camden’s time it was famed for some druidical remains. These ancient relics have long since been removed; they consisted of cromlechs and kist vaens, or stone chests.
At Pen Gwerwyn, a hill about a mile to the east of the village, are some inconsiderable remains of a castle, of which tradition says that it once belonged to Caractacus. We are told that when he was routed by the Romans, he retreated to this castle for safety; but was, with his whole family, betrayed to the enemy, and sent prisoner to Rome, where he delivered that celebrated speech which is so familiar to all students of British history.
CERNIOGAU MAWR,
(Denbighshire.)
| Capel Curig | 15 |
| Cerig-y-Druidion | 3 |
| Corwen | 13 |
| Ruthin | 18 |
Cerniogau Mawr is a hamlet of three or four small houses, in an elevated situation, on the London and Holyhead mail-road. Five miles on the road to Llanrwst is Gallt-y-Gwy, a terrace of more than two miles long. To the east appears the beautiful deep vale of Llanrwst, with Conway in the termination.