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
CHIRK.
For some way we followed the strait and formal course of a canal, near this, communicating with the Pont-y-Casulte; we again paused to survey this wonderful design. The vale, on our left, was indescribably beautiful; and over the whole was diffused the purple glow of the even. The prospect was composed of the miniature parts of the immense landscape we had viewed from Dinas Bran Hill, each of which we now contemplated separately as a scene. The moon’s checkered gleam besilvered the walls of Chirk Castle, just as we entered the Hand Inn, where, after the fatigues of a long walk, we met with excellent accommodations, when considered as a village.
After breakfast the next morning, we endeavoured to obtain admission to see the inside of Chirk Castle, but without success, though now only inhabited by servants, who were peremptorily commanded to admit no strangers. It is situated on an eminence, surrounded by a park, and fine plantations, which are very judiciously laid out; this elegant mansion has been in the possession of the Myddleton family, ever since the year 1614. Having gratified ourselves with a survey of this noble park, we returned to the Oswestry road. Leaving the village of Chirk, we crossed a new bridge, of one arch, elegantly constructed: near is another aqueduct, of considerable extent, now erecting over this river and valley, which, though very inferior to the Pont-y-Casulte, is still a great undertaking: it is several hundred yards in length, and the brick piers rise fifty or sixty feet above the level of the water. Near this is a rich coal mine, lately discovered. From hence to Oswestry, we traversed a rich enclosed country, and enjoyed a scene particularly pleasing: all the inhabitants were collected, to gather in the produce of the ripened field; and
“Thro’ their cheerful band the rural talk
The rural scandal, and the rural jest,
Fled harmless.”
To the traveller and the poet, such scenes afford an ample field for amusement; but waving corn is ill adapted to the canvass of the painter. About two miles from Oswestry, we passed through the little town of