“Just on the other side of the Mersey,” Ruskin writes, “you have your Snowdon and your Menai Straits and that mighty granite rock beyond the moors of Anglesea, splendid in its heathery crest, and footplanted in the deep sea, once thought of as sacred—a divine promontory, looking westward; the Holy Head or Head Land, still not without awe when its red light glares first through storm.”
On that same mountain of Holyhead are the circular hive-shaped dwellings, of unknown antiquity, called locally “Cyttiau Gwyddelod,” or “Irishmen’s Huts.” These are excavated to a depth of some feet below the surface, 15 feet to 20 feet in diameter inside, the sides of the interior being lined with stones to prevent the earth from falling, and the dome-shaped roof only being apparent above the surface of the ground. In addition to the above are the curiously shaped querns, mullers, and other stone implements indicating the past life of the dwellers in these rude huts.
The great Cromlech at Trefignedd and the fine Monoliths at Plas Meilw also bear silent record to the existence of men, who, but for this lasting evidence might well be deemed mythical. At that great Cromlech, overlooking many miles of country, horrible scenes were enacted, according to tradition, scenes too ghastly for description; and now, cattle graze and children play in the sunshine among those giant stones.
Holyhead mountain has repeatedly been a witness to fierce struggles for mastery between the natives and invaders, who from time to time landed, and tried to make good their footing, on that wild picturesque coast, guarded as it is to the west by jagged rocks, and with only here and there a creek into which a boat might be pushed in calm weather. Even now, with all the help that modern invention and careful thought can give, there are tragic tales of shipwreck and loss of life on those cruel rocks; and what must it have been in ancient times, when there was nothing between daring men and death but their rough boats, which it would take little to dash into a thousand atoms?
Doubtless in those early days the island was wooded, as trunks of trees are found at low tide, half buried in the sand in Towyn-y-Capel Bay, on the west coast. Possibly, under cover of these trees, marauders were able to effect a landing unseen; but at present, when there is not a single stick or shrub of any kind, this is difficult to realise. Still, though the trees have perished, there remain the silent monuments of that great race, which are found in almost every land; the same cromlechs, the same monoliths, as exist in our own island, are traceable on the Continent of Europe, especially in Brittany, and even in remotest India.
If to searchers after Druidical and Ante-Druidical remains Holyhead affords such rich results, yet higher interest still attaches to its early Christian records. In it, and in its neighbour Anglesey, are traced some of the earliest evidences of the foundation of the Christian Church, its collegiate bodies and its organization; and from this cradle of the Church proceeded the men whose teaching appears to have effectually superseded the dying religion of the Sun and the Serpent; for we have evidence that a number of Druid priests were converted, and we have no record of any bitter animosity against the preachers of the Gospel.
Early legends affirm that James, the son of Zebedee, came with his mother Salome into Britain, six years after our Lord’s Ascension, and preached the Gospel to willing ears; others say St. Paul himself visited these Islands after his imprisonment by Nero.
How far these legends are literally true is not of great consequence; the certainty remains that the Gospel was preached throughout the country, and that the fabric of the holy Church was raised and organized here after the same manner as the Eastern Churches.
As a proof of Christians having visited the Island, a medal was found in one of the Druid Mounds in Anglesey bearing the inscription, “This is Jesus Christ the Mediator,” and as the Romans had routed the Druids, this medal must have been there before the demolishing of the mound by Suetonius Paulinus, thus verifying in part the words of Tertullian an age later, who relates the sudden progress of the Christian Faith, which anticipated the Roman sword in the celerity of its conquests.
The first school of “Christian learning” to supply the province with clergy was apparently founded at Bangor, Anno Domini 182, and it is supposed that according to the usual plan of organization there were seven bishops under an archbishop in this province of Britain. Some of these were bishops of endowed sees, others were consecrated “Sine Titulo.”