The first is a boy, with two reeds in his mouth, feeding his goats on 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 Benlog; 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 Ffrancon; 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-mawr, 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.