PLAS-NEWYDD, LLANGOLLEN.
The history of the late occupants of this beautiful little cottage is at variance with the censure of the poet’s Angelina on the quality of friendship. Lady Eleanor Butler, daughter of the Earl of Ormond, was born in Dublin, and almost from her cradle had been an orphan. Wealthy, beautiful, and nobly sprung, her hand was sought by persons of rank and fortune equal to her own; but to all addresses of that description she expressed at once her disinclination. Although she openly avowed this taste for independence, no woman was ever more distinguished for mildness, modesty, and all those feminine graces which adorn and give interest to the sex. Miss Ponsonby, a member of the noble family of Besborough, had been an early associate of Lady Eleanor; and, possibly, it may have contributed in some degree to cement their growing friendship, the incidental circumstance of both having been born in the same city, upon the same day and year, and being both bereaved of their parents at precisely the same period. Minds of so much sensibility soon mistook their fancies for realities, and rapidly concluding that they were destined for a life of independence, at the early age of seventeen vowed eternal friendship and devotion to each other for the residue of their lives. At the age of twenty-one, when the arm of the law rescued them from the friendly detention of their relatives, they withdrew to the solitary little cottage of Plas-Newydd, never to return again to the gay, glittering world of fashion, or the country which gave them birth. Having enlarged and decorated their rural dwelling, laid out and planted their grounds, the selection of a library became an early care. Here much time was spent; and the glowing language of Miss Seward, a friend and frequent guest at Plas-Newydd, bears a high testimony to the philosophic quality of their minds. “All that is grateful, all that is attached, will be ever warm from my heart towards each honoured and accomplished friend, whose virtues and talents diffuse intellectual sunshine that adorns and cheers the loveliest of the Cambrian vales.”—Letter 38.
The habits and manners of the “Llangollen ladies” were frank and open, and their hospitality of the most liberal kind. They visited and received the neighbouring gentry until the “weight of years pressed heavy on them.” Madame de Genlis and the Mademoiselle D’Orleans, are to be numbered amongst their visiters; and it was here that intellectual being first heard the wild notes of our Æolian harp, of which she remarks, “it is natural for such an instrument to have originated in a country of storms and tempests, of which it softens the manners.”
Upwards of half a century these amiable companions graced the valley of Llangollen, extending a cheerful hospitality to their numerous guests, and exercising a benevolence the most unlimited towards the most friendless of their neighbours. At length they were called before the throne of brightness and purity, at the advanced ages of seventy-two and seventy-seven. Their remains are deposited in a vault in Llangollen cemetery, where the body of Mrs. Mary Carroll, their faithful servant, had been laid at rest before them.
DENBIGH CASTLE.
The castle of Denbigh (Dinbach, the little fort) occupies the crown of a rocky eminence on the south side of the noble vale of Clwyd, and commanding an extensive prospect over that rich and beautiful vein of country. This impregnable fortress, with one thousand pounds in lands, was granted by Edward the First to Davydd, the brother of Llewellyn, as a marriage portion with the Earl of Derby’s widow, whom he espoused at the king’s request. Davydd forfeited these grants by his rebellion, which enabled Edward to reward one of his English followers with this noble estate. The fortunate grantee was Henry Lacy, Earl of Lincoln and of Denbigh, who had married the daughter and sole heiress of Long-sword, Earl of Salisbury, by whom he had two sons, Edmund and John, who both died young, one of them by a fall into a very deep well within the castle of Denbigh; and a daughter named Alicia, espoused by Thomas Plantagenet, Earl of Lancaster, who, in right of this lady, became Earl of Lincoln and of Sarum, Lord of Denbigh, Halton, Pomfret, and constable of Chester Castle. The melancholy death of his son Edmund so afflicted the earl, that Leland assures us it caused him to desert his proud castle without completing its great design. Upon the attainder of Thomas of Lancaster, son-in-law of Lacy, the lordship of Denbigh was conferred upon Hugh D’Espencer, a favourite of Edward the Second; but this unpopular person being also cut off by violence, Roger Mortimer obtained a grant of his estates, in fulfilment of a promise made to his mother by Edward the Third, before he ascended the throne, “that he would bestow one thousand pounds upon her son if ever he should succeed to the crown of England.” The proprietorship of this impregnable rock seems to have inspired its lords with ideas of independence, uniformly growing up into rebellion. Mortimer was infected with the same anti monarchical notions, and met with a similar fate. The succession of tragedies was at length arrested by a Sir William Montacute, afterwards Earl of Salisbury, who continued a grateful and zealous adherent of the crown. Salisbury dying without issue, and the attainder of Mortimer being reversed, Denbigh was restored, by marriage, to the house of York, and, consequently, to the crown once more.
Queen Elizabeth bestowed the lordship of Denbigh upon her favourite Leicester, who did not conciliate the affections of the Welsh people with the same zeal he did those of his royal mistress, and an insurrection of the tenantry was the consequence of his tyrannical government. In the year 1696 a similar unpopular grant was made of the lordships of Denbigh, Bromfield, and Yale to the Earl of Portland; but the resistance given to the investment of the grantee by the Welsh gentry was so decided, that parliament petitioned the crown to reverse the grant.
Edward the Fourth, while Duke of York, sustained a siege here from the army of Henry the Sixth, and ultimately effected his escape. Charles the First lodged in the castle for a short period after his retreat from Chester; and the Siambr y Brennin, or king’s apartments, though totally ruined, are still pointed out. The Welsh, however, have greater cause of self-gratulation, and may point to this monument of departed power with more pride, from the gallant defence which they made from its walls, under the conduct of the brave William Salisbury, against the parliamentary forces, than from any adventitious circumstance involved in its sad and eventful history.
The ruins are of great extent, and the grand portal is nearly entire; but from the mode of its erection, as well as the means of its destruction, they afford but little that is picturesque in their appearance. The ground plan was at first surrounded by double walls, parallel to each other, and distant only by six or eight feet, the intermural space was then filled up with rubble stone and hot mortar, which on cooling became a solid conglomerate. Upon the barbarous dismantling of the castle, after the Restoration, which was done by springing a mine of gunpowder beneath it, the walls separated and fell from the grouting, exposing a mass of shattered fragments, without the advantage of a single tree or any impending object to throw a relieving shadow over the melancholy heap.
Near to the grand entrance of the castle stand the side walls of an unfinished church, one hundred and seventy feet in length, and pierced by many spacious windows. These were raised by the Earl of Leicester, and destined for the celebration of the reformed service; but he did not like, or, as others say, did not live to visit his oppressed Welsh tenantry, and left this pious work unfinished. A subscription was some years afterwards set on foot, and ample funds obtained for roofing over the walls, but the Earl of Essex, on his way to Ireland, procured a loan of the sum collected, and no effort was ever after made to save the whole from falling to decay.