The “Royal Hotel” is conducted by Mr. and Mrs. Hibbert, and the “Castle Hotel” by Mr. and Mrs. Mc Vittie. At these hotels there is every comfort and convenience, whether for the invalid in hopes of renovated health, or the tourist delighting in creature comforts. They are replete with every requisite for the accommodation of visitors, and afford every inducement to persons desirous, by quietness, to enjoy a relaxation from the cares of business and the bustle of populous districts. Cleanliness, prompt attention, combined with moderate charges, are the characteristics of these establishments, and render them pleasant places for a short stay.

The Royal Hotel, which is contiguous to the Station, has undergone thorough alteration, and every care has been taken to adopt all modern improvements, with a view of securing to travellers and families every accommodation which a first-class hotel can afford. It is fitted up in a style of elegance which renders it one of the most complete establishments of the kind in the kingdom, and in every way suited for visitors of the highest grade of society; it is fit to accommodate Royalty itself, and we opine the day is not far distant when it will be honoured with such illustrious guests. It is presided over by Mrs. Hibbert, late of Wolverton Station, whose unwearied exertions are employed to secure her inmates, as far as possible, all that can be desired. Here are hot, cold, and shower baths; carriages, cars, post-horses, &c. Omnibuses to and from the Railway Station and Steam-packets, for the convenience of parties frequenting this hotel, gratis.

TRIPS BY SEA.

Many persons resort to aquatic excursions for health, recreation, and the gratification of a poetic taste; and we are happy to say that there are few places that afford better opportunities for trips by sea than Holyhead. Should the visitor desire a short voyage, he may be gratified; three or four miles will land him at Trefadog (Madog’s House), or Penrhyn (The Cape), on the opposite shore. Or he may have a nine miles sail to the Skerries, or Island of Seals, and thus give the good man of the rocks a proof that the sons of the soil cast a wishful look towards his solitary abode by day, as well as the sons of the ocean by night. Or he may have a four miles cruise to South Stack, glide by the New Harbour, and gaze upon the sublime grandeur of the bold promontory. (See page [45].) Should the tourist, however, wish to achieve such nautical wonders as to lose sight of his own dear land, and to be able to say to his friends on returning—“I have crossed the seas!” his wish may be fully realized. Walk to the Pier, tread the deck of one of our splendid steamers, and in 4½ hours you will be landed on the shores of Ireland, and inhale the bracing air of the far-famed Emerald Isle.

PENRHOS PARK.

This handsome mansion (about two miles from Holyhead) is embosomed in the wood, and is the residence of the Hon. Wm. Owen Stanley, M.P. for the city of Chester. The principal entrance faces the sea, of which it commands a very extensive view. About a quarter of a mile east of Penrhos is Penrhyn, a cliff projecting into the sea, which has been the residence of the family of Owen for many centuries, who were descended from one of the five sons of Hwfa ap Cynddelw, Lord of Llifon in 1157, now represented by Lord Edisbury and the Hon. W. O. Stanley, sons of the late Lord Stanley, of Alderley. Hwfa was contemporary with Owen Gwynedd, one of the most celebrated princes of North Wales, who on more than one occasion gave battle and completely routed the English army, under the personal command of Henry II. Hwfa founded one of the fifteen royal tribes of Wales; and his five sons inherited his princely property, extending from Aberffraw to Holyhead, and including a great part of the Island of Anglesey.

LADY STANLEY’S HOSPITALITY TO SHIPWRECKED SAILORS.

During the tremendous gales from the north, in January and February, 1802, the Die Liebe, a Dutch galliot, bound from Rotterdam to Ireland, and the Brothers, of Liverpool, were wrecked near Penrhos, the first at midnight, where the unfortunate sufferers found all the comfort and attention which beneficence, united to influence, can so happily bestow, under the hospitable roof of the late Lady Stanley.

Mr. Richard Llwyd, in his “Lines addressed to the Thrush, in the Garden at Penrhos,” alludes to this melancholy catastrophe,

A happier day, dear chorister, is thine,
A grave unhaunted by the tread of fear;
A little forest, free from kites and crime,
When music only meets thy listening ear,—

Save when the Demon of the boisterous North
Rushed through the gloom of night with sullen roar,
Led from destruction’s den the Furies forth,
To roll his dying victims on the shore.

’Twas thine amid the raging of the storm,
To see thy Stanley disappoint the grave;
Tread the dread beach in Charity’s mild form,
And bid her Penrhos ope’ its doors to save.

And thine as playful in these flow’ry glades,
To hear the prayer ascend to Mercy’s throne,
To hear from strangers, shelter’d in these shades,
The grateful blessings breath’d in tongues [59] unknown.