He will be conducted to every ledge of the mountain, up an inclined plane, till he reaches the summit, and will have an opportunity of seeing the whole process of the slate manufacture. In one place he will discover the workmen aloft, suspended by ropes against the precipitous side of the rock, busily employed in splitting down every projecting shelf of the blue steganium; in another, persons employed in the laborious occupation of boring for the purpose of filling the orifice with gunpowder, to rend the rock from the immense mass to which it is attached; others occupied in removing the rubbish, of which so many years’ labour has produced a wonderful accumulation; and numbers in splitting the detached masses, and cutting them into a variety of sizes, denominated duchesses, countesses, ladies, &c. which names were bestowed by General Warburton about the year 1765. This process is executed with astonishing rapidity. Then may be heard the alarum shout, betokening that a fusee is lighted and will soon explode, warning those employed in the vicinity to secure themselves from danger; and in a few moments, the explosion itself rattles through the extensive levels with terrific grandeur. It cannot be expected that accidents amongst the workmen are of rare occurrence; on the contrary, they too frequently happen, for scarce a week passes without some poor fellows meeting with severe bodily injury; but this is solely attributed to their own negligence of the proper precaution.
Portions of the mountain are farmed by individuals, who pay a price consonant with the value or quality of the substratum, and employ workmen to remove and fit it for exportation; when they receive so much per thousand, in the same ratio, for their labour. There is a strong spring of water at the top of the mountain, which is conveyed by a large wooden pipe to the bottom, and there rendered serviceable in turning an immense cutting mill. A few hundred yards distant, also, are several mills of this description, where large pieces of rock are cut into grave-stones, and into the requisite sizes for roofing houses, and for the use of schools, &c.
St. Ann’s chapel, near the quarries, was erected and liberally endowed by the late Lord Penrhyn; and Lady Penrhyn left a sum for an organ, and a suitable stipend for the organist.—Within a short distance of the slate quarries is the charming cottage of the late Lady Penrhyn, called
Ogwen Bank.
It is now used by Mr. Pennant’s family as an occasional resort on paying a morning visit to the quarries, or other objects of curiosity in the neighbourhood. The style is florid Gothic, and shows great taste in the design. The centre contains an elegant room, the front of it forming a segment of a circle; the wings contain a coach house and stabling. Over the river Ogwen is a bridge corresponding with the architecture of the house. This beautiful cottage is hid from the road by the trees and plantation; Llwyd calls it “the Eden of the Mountains.”
Before quitting this remarkably interesting vicinity, we take leave to quote the following description from the graphic pen of Miss Costello:—
“From Bangor the lofty towers and turrets of Penrhyn Castle are conspicuous in the scenery, and have a very grand and imposing appearance, more so than any modern erection of the kind I ever saw. The building stands on a commanding height, and from its elevation has a magnificent view of Beaumaris Bay, and all the wide sweep of the sea, Puffin or Priestholm Island and a great part of Anglesea, the fine bold rock of the Great Orme’s Head, said to have once been dedicated to Serpent worship, and the range of the Caernarvonshire mountains.
“So stately, so massive, and so stupendous is this castle, that it scarcely seems the work of a modern architect; and if there had been more simplicity observed in its construction, it might well pass for a genuine Roman castle. The enormous profusion of ornament with which the doors, windows, staircases, halls, and ceilings are covered, betray the effort made to render that complete which would have been more so with less pains. The involved pillars, the redundant zigzags, the countless grotesque heads, of all sizes, grinning from all heights, the groves of slender columns, the circular arches, the semi-pointed arcades, form a maze of architecture such as never could have before, in any age, appeared on one spot.
“To wander through the wondrous halls of Penrhyn is like struggling along in a bewildered dream, occasioned by having studied some elaborate work on the early buildings of the Saxons and Normans. The eyes are dazzled and the mind confused with the quick succession of astonishing forms; but the result is rather wonder at the imagination or close copying of the artist, and at the enormous wealth which could repay such an exertion of skill, than admiration of the beauty created. Mona marble and fine stone furnish materials for all these sculptured treasures, and slate enters into much of the adornment; for close by are the famous slate-quarries, which have produced the enormous sums expended on this erection. In order to shew what can be done with slate, various articles of furniture are placed in the rooms occupying the places usually filled by carved wood and marble; chimney-pieces and tables of polished slate are seen, but the great triumph is a bedstead, beautifully carved, which, though far from elegant, is yet exceedingly curious.
“The library and drawing-rooms are very fine, and have even a comfortable appearance: all the house is gorgeously decorated, and all its laboured splendour announces such immense riches, that it seems as though the gnomes who work gold and silver in the neighbouring hills had all been made slaves of some potent lamp or ring, and had worked incessantly for years in the construction and adornment of the most gigantic mass of architecture that ever was beheld. There are, however, very few specimens of the higher order of art; a few portraits are to be found in one room, which are curious. In particular I was struck with a likeness of the celebrated Anne Clifford, of Cumberland, when a child: she is dressed in a stiff black dress, all over buttons and ornaments, and from under her arm peeps a hideous little dog. As, in her memoirs, she dwells a good deal on her own beauty, one cannot but smile at this comment on her vanity, for, unless the artist did her great injustice, she must have been a singularly ugly child. Two portraits of the Countess of Derby are remarkable: one has a child’s doll lying on a table near her, and in the other she is represented holding a feather fan, and covered and half smothered with elaborate ruffs which seem to bristle up in every part of her attire.
“The famous hirlas horn, belonging to an ancient Cambrian prince, the treasure of the castle, we had not an opportunity of seeing, as we found it was carefully locked up from public view. It held the same place as the Saxon wassail bowl, and it was customary that those who had the honour of drinking from it should empty the horn at one draught, and then blow it, to prove that they had performed the feat expected of them. One of the most picturesque objects on the way to the famous slate quarries, is the little mill of Coet Mor, whose wheel is turned by a rushing stream breaking wildly over heaps of rocks.
“The slate quarries of Penrhyn are situated near Nant Ffrancon, at a spot called Cae Braich-y-Cefn, and are exceedingly curious, and even picturesque. We were conducted over them by a very loquacious Irishman, the only person of his nation employed in the works, all the others being Welsh.
“Most of these places, where enormous labour produces enormous wealth, are to me displeasing to contemplate; but there is nothing here that conveys an idea of over-tasked workmen, no horrible underground toil and dark dungeon-like caves, where human creatures are condemned, like souls in penance for some hideous crime, to drag heavy weights and chains through frightful chasms, and delve and dig for ore in spaces not large enough for them to stand upright; here are no deadly vapours, no fatal gases mortal to humanity, all is wide and open in the pure light of day, high, and broad, and healthy. The mountain is cut into ridges of slate, and here and there the projecting edges have formed themselves into graceful shapes: in the very centre of the quarry rises a beautiful conical pillar of slate which the admiration of the workmen has spared, now that their labours have brought it to the shape which it bears. It is a great ornament to the area, and it is to be regretted that in time it must fall, as the slate of which it is composed happens to be of the purest kind. The huts of the workmen scattered over the quarry have a singular effect, and the wild aspect of the men accords well with their abodes. The thundering sound produced by the occasional blasting of the rock is very grand, as it rolls and echoes amongst the caves, and along the heights; and the grey masses glowing in the sun, and reflecting the sky through their rents, have an imposing aspect.”
In July, 1844, the King of Saxony made a tour through England and Wales; a narrative of which, written by His Majesty’s Physician, Dr. Carus, has been published in the present year (1846). From that journal of the royal travels, we extract the subjoined passages—which may serve to show the impressions made upon the mind of an intelligent though somewhat prejudiced foreigner, by the more striking objects of interest in this locality.
“As the road approaches Bangor, it runs near the sea, and brings us close to the end of one of the most extraordinary structures of modern times—the vast iron suspension bridge which forms the junction between the mainland and the island, universally known and celebrated as the Menai Bridge.
“The drivers were ordered to stop, and we dismounted, in order to pass over and examine this splendid work, and endeavour to gain as accurate an idea as possible of its nature and size. The coasts of Wales and Anglesea at both sides of the strait, are rocky, and about 100 feet high, and the breadth of the channel by which they are separated, is about 1600 feet. The object was to connect the two coasts by a bridge, and it has been fully attained. Two very stout columns of solid masonry are built in the water, one on each side, over the summits of which are stretched the immense chains, from which the bridge itself is suspended. The channel between the columns is about 600 feet wide, and over this stretches the horizontal line of the road-way, which is supported and made fast by means of about 800 strong iron rods. Each of the sixteen chains which constitute the suspending power, is stated to be 1714 feet long, and consists of large massive links, joined and bound together by strong iron bolts. These chains pass over the tops of the supporting columns, on moveable iron rollers of great strength, and are thus in a condition readily to accommodate themselves to the changes of temperature, without risk. The greatest difference in length between the strongest summer heat and most intense winter cold, is said to amount to sixteen inches. The work was begun under the direction of Mr. Telford, in the year 1819, and finished in 1826. Such is the general idea of the whole structure. When seen from the side, it is very difficult immediately to form a notion of the magnitude of the work; and besides, the simplicity of the outline gives at first an impression of very moderate extent. The feeling is very much the same as that with which strangers are impressed on the first view of St. Peter’s in Rome. They find it extremely difficult to believe that a structure of such magnitude is before them. And as the banks on both sides are very uniform, it requires to be compared with some other object—such as that of a large ship sailing through beneath, in order to gain a correct notion of its real magnitude. On viewing the bridge, and passing over it, through its long uniform alleys of ever-recurring iron rods, another observation forced itself upon my mind. This immense work, which in all its parts is regulated by the principle of utility, is totally deficient in all the charms of beauty. It cuts the landscape like a black uniform line, concave on one side, and perfectly horizontal on the other; and when viewed closely, the columns by which the bridge is supported, are wholly destitute of every description of architectural or sculptural ornament. Those perpetually recurring iron rods, which follow one another in monotonous rows, only serve to suggest the feeling of despair to which a painter must be reduced in any attempt to delineate the structure, and to give any thing like an accurate drawing of this tedious iron lattice-road. True, it may be very difficult to combine the demands of taste with the strict principles of utility in such an undertaking, where the grand object is strength. There is, properly speaking, a genuine English, dry, pedantic character usually exhibited in such structures as this. And, after all, what style should art here apply in order to introduce the charms of beauty into a work of this character? Neither the Egyptian nor Grecian style is at all appropriate to works in iron—the Gothic is quite as little applicable to such a purpose—and I have already remarked that in addition to these three, there can be as little pretension to introduce a fourth, really distinct from them, as to add a new kingdom to those of the recognised mineral, animal, and vegetable ones. This makes the task of the architect a very difficult one to accomplish. It is for them to see how the difficulty is to be met.
“Having passed over the bridge to the Anglesea side, we descended to the shore, and took a boat, in order to have a view of this immense structure from beneath. By far the clearest idea of the vastness of the work is thus obtained, by viewing it from the green sea, which flows beneath with a gentle southerly current; the true magnitude and proportions of the bridge are then most deeply impressed upon the mind; but even here, no idea of beauty is suggested. Other bridges, with their various arches and ornamental buttresses, may, and frequently do present objects of great beauty to the eye. This, however, is, and must always remain, a great mathematical figure.
“After having thus examined the bridge from all parts of the river, we descended into the vast cavern on the Anglesea side, in which the ends of the chains are made fast in the rocks far under ground. The whole is planned with great ingenuity and skill. The rock, which forms the resisting power, is armed, as it were, with huge masses of iron, containing deep mortices, into which the bolts that bind the ends of the chains are made fast.
“In this manner, therefore, the sixteen powerful chains are fastened in the deep rocks on both sides of the strait; and assuredly, no human power or weight can be well conceived sufficient to tear them from the depth in which they are anchored. Even the long Macadamized bridge itself presents such a degree of stability, as to be very little moved by the carriages which pass over its surface.”
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