Is an inconsiderable village, little more than a mile from Caergwrle; it also has the remains of a castle, at which Eleanor, queen of Edward the First, made some stay on her way to Caernarvon.—Within a short distance are the mansions of Bryn Yorkyn and Plâs Têg. Caergwrle and Hope, in conjunction with Flint, Caerwys, Rhuddlan, Overton, and Holywell, send a member to Parliament.
Angling station:—the river Alun.
CAERNARVON.
| Bangor | 9 |
| Beaumaris | 14 |
| Beddgelert | 13 |
| Capel Curig | 17 |
| Dolbadarn Castle | 10 |
| Ffestiniog | 25 |
| Llanberis | 8 |
| London by Chester | 254 |
| — by Shrewsbury | 236 |
| Pwllheli | 20 |
| Tan-y-Bwlch | 23 |
| Tre-Madoc | 20 |
Caernarvon is the capital of the county, and is one of the largest and best towns in North Wales. It name is properly Caer yn Arvon, which signifies a walled town in the district opposite to Anglesea. Ar Vôn or Ar Môn implies opposite to Mona.
“Caernarvon (we adopt the interesting and elegant description of Mr. Roscoe,) is built on a peninsula, formed by the Menai on the west and north sides, and by the Seiont on the south. It was formerly enclosed by walls, defended by a chain of round towers, which on three sides are still nearly entire. In former times there were but two gates through which the inhabitants passed, but other openings have been more recently made to form communications with the suburbs, which are rapidly extending. The town-hall is over one of the ancient gates of the town.
A terrace, extending from the quay to the north end of the walls, offers a delightful promenade, and presents a variety of interesting objects around the port, which is daily rising into greater importance by receiving and dispensing the fruits of industry and commerce. This terrace, Mr. Bransby observes, possesses the powerful recommendation of being always clean, and of soon becoming dry after heavy and continued rain. From this walk to behold the sun on a calm summer evening, as he goes down ‘in a paradise of clouds’ behind the Anglesea hills, is to witness one of the most lovely and glorious spectacles in nature. On an eminence called the Twt-hill, near the Uxbridge Arms Hotel, is a most extensive and varied panoramic view, including part of the Snowdonian range,—the isle of Anglesea, with its plains, farms, and villas, backed by the mountains of Holyhead and Parys,—the swelling Menai,—and the blue and spacious bay, with the sea stretching far beyond.
The harbour and the pier have both undergone very great improvement, and ships of considerable burthen can now come up alongside the quay. An extensive trade is carried on with Liverpool, Dublin, Bristol, Swansea, &c., besides a lucrative coast trade, exchanging the invaluable mineral substances of this part of the Principality for timber and other articles. Slates are brought here as to the general depôt from the quarries about Llanberis and Llanllyfni; and the country people of all ranks resort hither, as the best and cheapest market, from a considerable distance.
The market-house, erected by the corporation, the Uxbridge Arms Hotel, by the Marquis of Anglesea, a number of excellent inns, among which stand foremost the Goat Hotel and the Sportsman, with hot and cold baths, and a billiard-room, render the modern town as pleasant and commodious a place of residence as the most fastidious nabob,—to say nothing of hardy Welshmen and pedestrian ramblers,—could possibly desire.
Caernarvon is resorted to as a bathing place, and by invalids seeking health and amusement, for a temporary residence. There are here the advantages of a genteel neighbourhood as well as salubrious air; and the rambler in quest of romantic scenery frequently makes this town his head quarters. Besides many pleasant walks and rides in the immediate vicinity, within the circle of a dozen miles are the Menai Straits as far as Bangor, Llanberis, Snowdon, Plâs Newydd, and Beddgelert, offering not only inducements to those in search of the picturesque, but affording a source of continued gratification to the botanist, mineralogist, and antiquary.
The parish church of Caernarvon is at Llanbeblig, and stands in its loneliness at the distance of half a mile to the south-east of the castle wall. It is a structure of great antiquity, and contains the altar-tomb of Sir William Gruffydd (a member of the Penrhyn family) and Margaret, his wife. The knight mailed in armour, and the lady in the full dress of the age, are sculptured in white marble, and lie side by side. English service is performed at a chapel of ease at Caernarvon, close to the castle; but in this venerable little place the service is conducted in Welsh. The churchyard exhibits the peculiarities which give a touching interest to some of the burying places of the Principality. Flowers of all colours, but especially snowdrops, violets, and pale primroses, display their beauty and expend their perfume on the graves of children, and maidens ‘that die unmarried,’ while branches of the box, arbutus, and laurel, with shrubs of a firm and sombre hue, mark the resting places of the more matured in this ‘City of the Silent.’
For its ample and magnificent feudal structure,—almost terrible to the eye,—Caernarvon is indebted to the first Edward, who raised this colossal castle—as if in derision of the poor tenure of all sovereign power—near the ruins of the great Roman station. Soon after his conquest, Edward began the stupendous pile, which served less to overawe the Welsh than for a magnificent ruin and a modern wonder. The remains of Segontium furnished part of the materials, bright grey limestone, of exceeding durability, was brought from Twr Celyn, in Anglesea, and grit-stone, for the windows and arches, from Vaenol, between Caernarvon and Bangor.
Vast, irregular, and more shattered than its exterior grandeur would lead us to suppose, this giant-fortress stretches far along the west of the town, its broad spreading walls being surmounted, at intervals, with octagonal towers. The extent of the courts, the gateways, and the towers, bear equal witness to those noble proportions which astonish the modern architect, as from its Eagle-turrets he commands the whole of its magnificent area, and the wide sweeping circuit of its walls.
Opposite the massive Eagle tower, in which the unfortunate Edward the Second was born, is the Queen’s Gate, [76] which had two portcullises that communicated with a drawbridge across the moat. Over the embattled parapet are seen the turrets rising majestically above the solitary ruins, bounded on two sides by the water; the third bears traces of a large ditch; on the north-east side is a deep well, nearly filled up, with a round tower contiguous to it, apparently the ancient dungeon. The exterior, and especially the main entrance, has an air of forlorn grandeur, blended with massy strength, which must at all times excite admiration and awe in the beholder. The area within is irregularly oblong, and was divided into an outer and inner court. The external walls of the castle, enclosing an area of great extent, are nearly as perfect as when they were built, and of considerable height and thickness.
The state apartments appear to have been spacious, commodious, and handsomely ornamented; the windows wide, and enriched with elegant tracery. The form is polygonal, though the exterior of the edifice presents a complete square. The floors and staircases are considerably injured—in many places wholly demolished. A gallery extended round the entire fortress, to serve as a means of communication in times of danger, and during a siege. It lay close to the outer walls, and was provided with narrow slips, adapted for stations, from which to annoy an enemy with arrows or other missiles as occasion might require. But its time-worn and ivy-covered bulwarks are now fast yielding, like the interior, to the assaults of time. Some years ago the Eagle tower, struck by lightning, was split down several yards from the summit, giving it still more the aspect of a splendid ruin.
It was evening, as I before said, when I first caught sight of the castle. The sun’s disk had sunk below the horizon, but his refracted rays still played upon that imaginary line ‘which parts the day and night,’ casting an attenuated melancholy grace over the crumbling fortress. I lingered amongst those ruins till the last vestige of light was withdrawn, except such as is bestowed by a clear blue firmament emblazoned with burning stars. As I gazed, the phantoms of history passed rapidly before my mental eye, with an order and truth like unto the facts treasured in her pages, and with a realizing illusion that converted me into an actual spectator of the scenes. From the topmost point of the Eagle Tower a prophetic voice seemed to issue, dispelling the delusion that in those days clung to the hearts of the stricken Cambrians, that their own-loved Arthur would again appear to raise up their fast-falling nation to its former glory. I saw the stern conqueror buckling on his armour, after the Easter festival, resolute to conquer or exterminate the defenders of that ancient land. I heard the wailing of that dark and stormy night of Palm Sunday, when the strong hold of Hawarden fell before his victorious sword. I tracked the line of march his countless legions took through the deep forest, reaching, in ancient times, from the confines of Cheshire to the mountains of Snowdon, leaving Flint and Rhuddlan still frowning in their perilled rear; and I looked upon the picture of that onslaught at the bridge of Moel-y-don, when an English knight was seen buffeting the waves of Menai, and alone escaped to tell the tale of national vengeance. The panorama shifted, and another pictured page discovered that gallant prince, the last of his race who held the sceptre of the Cymri, slowly retreating before his haughty foe into the mountain holds hard by,—dispirited, though not despairing,—cursed by the priest whom Edward brought to curse him,—deluded by the soothsayer, whose prophecy bore ‘a double sense,’ too fatally fulfilled in his own person,—deserted by many of his friends, and his affianced wife basely held a captive in the hands of his enemy. The scene then moved; the undaunted hero still struggled with his fate, once the sovereign of the whole land, now only lord of the five baronies of Snowdon,—goaded by the insults of his mean conqueror,—maddened into open war,—betrayed by his base confederate lords,—and perishing alone and defenceless in the solitary recesses of a wood. Such was the strange eventful story; and that castle which marked the triumph of the conqueror, and the subjection of the people—which heard the infant cries of the first English prince of this cheated land—which opened wide at midnight its gates to troops of warrior-knights belonging to an alien country—which rung again and again with the rude revelry of that barbarous age, when the pageant and tournament of Nefyn was ended,—and which in the days of its strength, passed into the hands of foes, and friends, and fratricides,—that castle in its gaunt ruins, yet remained as the monument of these records, and the tomb in which past ages silently slept.”
A rail-road has lately been formed from Llanllyfni to Caernarvon, a distance of more than nine miles, for the purpose of conveying the copper ore and slates to the quay.
A most interesting part of the Menai Straits is connected with Caernarvon. Tourists may enjoy boating in perfection, either on the Tal-y-Foel ferry, the new ferry at Barris, to which a good road has recently been made, through the lands of the Marquis of Anglesea, by his free permission; or to Aber-mania, at the mouth or gap of the straits, and then to Llanddwyn, where are the remains of an old abbey. On the opposite side the gap to Aber-mania is St. David’s Fort, a marine residence of Lord Newborough, well worth a visit, and where the domestics shew the greatest civility. A few miles to the northward, on the east coast of Caernarvon bay, is Dinas Dinlle, an old Roman station of artificial formation.
Caernarvon is remarkable for having been the first town in the principality that enjoyed the privilege of a royal charter, which was granted by Edward the First. The government of the place was rested in a mayor (who is always constable of the castle), two bailiffs, a recorder, burgesses, &c. before the passing of the municipal reform act; now it is under the provisions of that act. In conjunction with the boroughs of Conway, Criccieth. Nevin, Pwllheli, and Bangor, Caernarvon returns a member to parliament. The member in the present parliament is W. B. Hughes, Esq.
There are two banks, viz. Messrs. Williams & Co. commonly known as the old bank, and which is in connection with the banks of the same firm at Chester and Bangor; and a branch of the North and South Wales bank. Coaches pass several times each day between this place and Bangor, and the mail leaves every morning for Pwllheli through Clynog; and for Barmouth, through Beddgelert, Tremadoc, Tan-y-bwlch, and Harlech.