The writer visited these cromlechs on the 18th of February, 1853, and, assisted by a friend, measured some of the huge, unshapely stones. The western cromlech consists of 5 stones, four of which were undoubtedly uprights, but have fallen from their proper situation, and the table stone, with its flat face, reposes upon them. This superincumbent stone measures 12 feet long, including the piece broken off at the eastern end—it is 6 feet wide, and in some parts about 2 feet in diameter. One of the four stones is 10 feet long, by 4 wide, and about 10 feet in circumference. At the western end of this cromlech are three stones, but for what purpose they were originally used, I wot not.
The eastern cromlech consists of 8 stones, two of which are standing; one perpendicularly, the other in an oblique position—following the example of its companions, which have long since bowed beneath the weight or pressure of centuries;—these are 6 feet long, one of which is about 10 feet in circumference, the other 8. There is one reposing longitudinally, measuring 10 feet long, and 6 feet in circumference. The other three are of smaller dimensions. There are two table or superincumbent stones, one of which measures 10 feet long, by 6 wide; the other, 6 feet long, by 5 wide. When first constructed, this cromlech would have admitted a tall man to stand upright in it.
When I first approached these ruins, I felt that I was treading the sacred ground of ancient Britons; a longing to comprehend their origin came over me—a yearning to make out the dark enigma that for ages had puzzled the learned and the wise. While walking round these ancient relics, I felt somewhat astonished and bewildered. Awe, amazement, and solemnity, were as a load on my spirit, pressing heavily. I wished to know, but I was ignorant; I wished to admire, but I was awestruck.
Ages seem present; shadowy, giant forms,
And fantasies that throng the heated brain,
Are fluttering to and fro; unhallowed rites,
Obscene and cruel, and unearthly shapes,
Start into being.
Many remains have I gazed on with solemn feelings; but never do I remember such arresting, mysterious solemnity being excited within me by mouldering castle, abbey, church, or priory, as that which then oppressed me. It is strange, but these stones seem embued with the spirit of by-gone ages. There they are, monuments of antiquity—huge, grand, wonderful, incomprehensible! They over-awe you as they stand, gloomily questioning, as it were, your right to approach so near their sacred enclosure.
With these relics we cannot but associate the Druidical priests, who were the principal actors on all public occasions. The finger of time has long ceased to keep a calendar of their moments, or of their actions, and their dust has for ages mingled with the clods of the valley! Yet, here they once performed their idolatrous worship, and were held in great veneration by the people. Imagination takes the place of memory, and, influenced by the appalling gloom that pervades the spot, conjures up shapes of human victims reeking in sacrifice, while Druidic priests in their long white garments, the tiara, or sacred crown, their temples enwreathed with chaplets of oak-leaves, the magic wand in their hand, and on their heads a serpent’s egg, as an ensign of their order, and thus attired we see them going forth to sacrifice, sullen, cruel, implacable, standing round the crimson-stained altar, shrouded with superstition, mystery, and death.
The durability or antiquity of these extraordinary relics is calculated to excite emotions of astonishment and awe in the mind:—
These ancient stones, o’ergrown with bearded moss,
And by the melancholy skill of time
Moulded to beauty, charms the bosom more
Than the palaces of princes.
They must have weathered out more than 2000 years. It was about A.D. 60, and during the reign of Nero, the Roman Emperor, when Suetonius Paulinus, a distinguished Roman general, entered Anglesey, and cut down the groves, sacred to Druidic superstition, and placed a garrison among the conquered. And in A.D. 79, Titus Vespasian, the Roman Emperor, sent Julius Agricola, a general not less renowned for his military talents than for his wisdom and humanity; he arrived in Mona, or Anglesey, and permanently secured the various triumphs of the Romans. Thus the bloody rites of superstition, the most powerful that ever enchained the human mind, and after it had long established a boundless tyranny upon the ruins of human reason, was abolished throughout the island.
Their sacred Isle with solemn woods were crown’d,
Their woods are gone, dismantled lies the ground
Of holy Druids, once the reverend shrine.