Part 4

The mansion is built of Portland stone, in a somewhat novel mode of architecture, from designs by Mr. Baldwyn of Bath; it combines the distinguishing features of the Moorish and Gothic styles, with turrets and painted windows. It is situated near the banks of the river Ystwyth, and beautifully environed by lofty hills, clothed with oak. The interior of the house corresponds in elegance with the exterior.

A correct idea of the enchanting beauties of the scenery has been left on record by the elegant pen of Mr. Cumberland:—“Havod is a place in itself so pre-eminently beautiful, that it highly merits a particular description. It stands surrounded with so many noble scenes, diversified with elegance as well as with grandeur; the country on the approach to it is so very wild and uncommon, and the place itself is now so embellished by art, that it will be difficult, I believe, to point out a spot that can be put in competition with it, considered either as the object of the painter’s eye, the poet’s mind, or as a desirable residence for those who, admirers of the beautiful wildness of nature, love also to inhale the pure air of aspiring mountains, and enjoy that _santo pacé_, as the Italians expressively term it, which arises from solitudes made social by a family circle. From the portico it commands a woody, narrow, winding vale; the undulating form of whose ascending shaggy sides are richly clothed with various foliage, broken with silver waterfalls, and crowned with climbing sheep-walks, reaching to the clouds. Neither are the luxuries of life absent; for, on the margin of the Ystwyth, where it flows broadest through this delicious vale, we see hothouses and a conservatory; beneath the rocks, a bath; amid the recesses of the woods, a flower-garden; and within the building, whose decorations, though rich, are pure and simple, we find a mass of rare and valuable literature, whose pages here seem doubly precious, where meditation finds scope to range unmolested.

“In a word, so many are the delights afforded by the scenery of this place and its vicinity, to a mind imbued with any taste, that the impression on mine was increased after an interval of ten years from the first visit, employed chiefly in travelling among the Alps, the Appennines, the Sabine hills, and the Tyrolese; along the shores of the Adriatic, over the Glaciers of Switzerland, and up the Rhine; where, though in search of beauty, I never, I feel, saw any thing so fine—never so many pictures concentrated in one spot; so that, warmed by the renewal of my acquaintance with them, I am irresistibly urged to attempt a description of the hitherto almost virgin-haunts of these obscure mountains.

“Wales, and its borders, both North and South, abound, at intervals, with fine things: Piercefield has grounds of great magnificence, and wonderful picturesque beauty; Downton Castle has a deliciously wooded vale, most tastefully managed; Llangollen is brilliant; the banks of the Conway savagely grand; Barmouth romantically rural; the great Pistyll-y-Rhaiadr is horribly wild; Rhaiadr-y-Wennol gay, and gloriously irregular; each of which merits a studied description. But at Havod and its neighbourhood, I find the effects of all in one circle; united with this peculiarity, the deep dingles, and mighty woody slopes, which, from a different source, conduct the Rheidiol’s never-failing waters from Plinlimmon, and the Mynach, are of an unique character, as mountainous forests, accompanying gigantic size with graceful forms; and taken altogether, I see ‘the sweetest interchange of hill and valley, rivers, woods and plains, and falls, with forests crowned, rocks, dens, and caves,’ insomuch that it requires little enthusiasm there to feel forcibly with Milton—

‘All things that be send up from earth’s great altar Silent praise.’

“There are four fine walks from the house, chiefly through ways artificially made by the proprietor; all dry, kept clean, and composed of materials found on the spot; which is chiefly a coarse stone, of a greyish cast, friable in many places, and like slate, but oftener consisting of immense masses that cost the miner, in making some parts of these walks, excessive labour; for there are places where it was necessary to perforate the rock many yards, in order to pass a promontory that, jutting across the way, denied further access; and to go round which you must have taken a great tour, and made a fatiguing descent. As it is, the walks are so conducted that few are steep; the transitions easy, the returns commodious, and the branches distinct. Neither are there too many; for much is left for future projectors; and if a man be stout enough to range the underwoods, and fastidious enough to reject all trodden paths, he may, almost every where, stroll from the studied line, till he be glad to regain the friendly conduct of the well-known way. Yet one must be nice, not to be content at first to visit the best points of view by the general routine; for all that is here done has been to remove obstructions, reduce the materials, and conceal the art; and we are no where presented with attempts to force the untamed streams, or indeed to invent any thing, where nature, the great mistress, has left all art behind.”

To this lively delineation, we shall only add one sentence of the Rev. Mr. Warner, who, after visiting this spot, remarks:—“The whole together forms a scene so striking, that while wandering through its ever-changing beauties, we felt no inclination to tax Mr. Cumberland with enthusiasm when he declared that in ten years’ travelling through the Alps, the Appennines, the Sabine hills, and the Tyrolese; the shores of the Adriatic; the Glaciers of Switzerland; and the banks of the Rhine; he never saw any thing so fine—never so many pictures concentrated in one spot.”

The splendid library at Havod was adorned with a most valuable collection of books and manuscripts, which Mr. Johnes had, at an immense expense, brought together, many of which were unique and of the highest historical importance, including those of Sir John Sebright’s collection, in the Welsh language, together with some splendidly illuminated manuscripts of Froissart. These, with several thousand volumes, comprising a complete Don Quixote’s library, with other works of equal rarity, which cannot be replaced, were unfortunately consumed by a fire which destroyed the mansion on March 13, 1807. The origin of this calamity has never been satisfactorily ascertained, neither is it possible to estimate, with any approach to accuracy, the extent of the loss: it has been stated at £70,000. However, Mr. Johnes determined to restore his mansion in the best manner he could, and another collection of books was soon made, founded by the Pesaro library, which Mr. Johnes had purchased in Italy, and was on its way to Havod at the time when the fire occurred.

This highly esteemed, accomplished, and public-spirited gentleman survived the destructive visitation about nine years, during which he was engaged in promoting improvements on his estate. He died at Exeter, and his mortal remains were interred in the family vault at the new church built by himself within the precincts of Havod grounds. His widow survived until October, 1833, when she also died at Exeter, and was buried in the same tomb with her respected husband and their only daughter, who died on the 24th July, 1811, in the 27th year of her age. The family becoming extinct upon the death of the widow, the vault, after her interment, was completely arched over.

The whole of the magnificent estate of Havod was put up to auction by Mr. Robins, in the spring of 1831, and became the property of the Duke of Newcastle, together with the timber, the splendid collection of books and furniture, and the large cellar of choice wines, for which that nobleman is said to have paid about £62,000. The noble duke expended a very large sum in enlarging and improving, and became a most munificent benefactor to the neighbourhood. In 1843, however, it was again submitted to the hammer of Mr. Robins, but no sale was effected. The estate has since been bought of His Grace by H. Bold Houghton, Esq. The purchase-money is said to have been £150,000.

AMLWCH. (_Anglesea_.)

Beaumaris 16 Holyhead 20 Llanerch-y-medd 6 Menai Bridge 18

This is a market town on the coast, chiefly supported by the copper mines, with which the surrounding district abounds. About the year 1766, Amlwch had not more than half-a-dozen houses in the whole parish, but now it contains a population exceeding 6000. It has a capacious harbour, cut out of the solid rock or slate, executed at the expense of the mining companies, capable of admitting thirty vessels of 200 tons burthen, where originally there was only a cleft or opening, too small to receive a single vessel. There are large smelting works for copper erected near the harbour, the property of the mining companies.

In conjunction with Beaumaris, Holyhead, and Llangefni, this town returns one member to parliament. The church, consecrated in 1801, is an elegant building, erected by the Parys mine company, at an expense of £4000. The situation of Amlwch is most salubrious.

The immense treasures contained in the Parys mountain, which is in the immediate vicinity of Amlwch, and to which the town owes its prosperity, were unknown and lay neglected until about the year 1765, when one Frazer, a Scotch miner, came in search of ores, and gave encouragement to other adventurers. Though he discovered copper ore by sinking shafts in the mountain, he was discouraged from proceeding by the influx of water. Sir N. Bailey, grandfather of the Marquis of Anglesea, who had leased the lead mines at Penrhyn-dû, in Caernarvonshire, to the Macclesfield company, bound them to make a spirited effort to work the Parys mine. This they did, but with so little success, that after some time they sent positive orders to the agent to discontinue his operations, and discharge the miners. The agent, however, fortunately disobeyed the injunction; and as a last attempt, collected all his mining force to one spot, where he sunk a shaft, and within seven feet of the surface discovered a body of ore which was worked with great success for many years. This happened on the 2d of March, 1768, whence St. Chad has ever since been a venerated patron of the Anglesea miners.

In the Parys mountain are two mines: of these, that upon the eastern side is called the Mona mine, the entire property of the Marquis of Anglesea, who works it, and also the smelting house at Amlwch. The Parys mine is the joint property of the Marquis of Anglesea and Lord Dinorben, and is now worked by a company. The stranger, in order to see the mines to advantage, should first furnish himself with a guide, to avoid danger, and follow the steps of Mr. Bingley, who thus describes his efforts to gratify his curiosity:—“Having ascended to the top, I found myself standing on the verge of a vast and tremendous chasm. I stept on one of the stages suspended over the edge of the steep, and the prospect was dreadful. The number of caverns at different heights along the sides; the broken and irregular masses of rock which everywhere presented themselves; the multitudes of men at work in different parts, and apparently in the most perilous situations; the motions of the whimsies, and the raising and lowering of the buckets, to draw out the ore and rubbish; the noise of picking the ore from the rock, and of hammering the wadding when it was about to be blasted; with, at intervals, the roaring of the blasts in different parts of the mine—altogether excited the most sublime ideas, intermixed, however, with sensations of terror.

“I left this situation, and followed the road that leads into the mine; and the moment I entered my astonishment was again excited. The shagged arches and overhanging rocks, which seemed to threaten annihilation to any one daring enough to approach them, fixed me almost motionless to the spot. The roofs of the work, having in many places fallen in, have left some of the rudest scenes that the imagination can paint; these, with the sulphureous fumes from the kilns in which the ore is roasted, gave it to me a perfect counterpart to Virgil’s entrance into Tartarus. To look up from hence and observe the people on the stages, a hundred and fifty feet above one’s head; to see the immense number of ropes and buckets, most of them in motion; and to reflect that a single stone, casually thrown from above, or falling from a bucket, might in a moment destroy a fellow-creature—a man must have a strong mind not to feel impressed with most unpleasant sensations.”

The mines are still prolific in their production of copper ore, and afford a great revenue to their proprietors.—There are also alum works, and a green vitriol manufactory in the neighbourhood of these mines. The principal inns at Amlwch are Ty Mawr and the Castle. About four miles distant is Llysdulas, the hospitable seat of Col. Hughes, brother to Lord Dinorben.

BALA, (_Merionethshire_.)

Corwen 12 Dinas Mowddwy 18 Dolgellau 17 Ffestiniog 19 London 207 Mawr Twrog 22

Bala, or the Outlet of the Lake, is a small neat town consisting of one long street, with two or three others crossing at right angles, and a population of about 2500. There are two good inns here, the White Lion and the Bull’s Head, the former being an excellent posting house. This town is noted for its trade in woollen stockings, woollen comfortables, and Welsh wigs. Mr. Pennant remarks, that in his time, on a Saturday, their market-day, from two to five hundred pounds worth of these goods were disposed of; but this staple appears to have greatly decreased since that period. Still, however, knitting is here an almost universal employment; and whether you walk in the town, or the country around, you will scarcely ever meet a female unemployed, even while they carry water, or other burdens upon their heads.

Near the south-east end of the town is a high artificial mount, called Tommen-y-Bala, supposed to be of Roman construction: in the summer time it is usually covered, in a picturesque manner, with knitters of all ages. From the summit there is it fine view of Llyn Tegid and the adjacent mountains, which present a particularly grand and majestic aspect in this vicinity, successfully rivalling the glories of Snowdonia. The quarter sessions for the county are held here; and also the spring assizes. The town-hall is a plain building, standing in the principal street. A chapel-of-ease was erected in 1811 by subscription: it is a plain structure, with a low tower, surmounted by a spire. The parish church is situate at Llanycil, about a mile from the town: the service is performed there in the morning, and at Bala in the afternoon. The Rev. Thomas Charles, Calvinistic Methodist, the founder of the Bible Society, resided here. He was a great promoter of education and Sunday schools amongst his countrymen; and compiled a Welsh biblical dictionary in four volumes.

Bala Lake,

Llyn Tegid, or Pimblemere, (for this pool has these various names) is within a quarter of a mile south of the town, and is a fine expanse of water, with well-cultivated, sloping boundaries, clothed in many parts with verdant woods.

Bala and it fine lake (says Mr. Roscoe in his “Wanderings through North Wales,”) have attractions peculiar to themselves. To appreciate them as they deserve, the traveller should first ascend the craggy summit of the neighbouring mountain, and gaze upon the rude glens beyond, through which the boisterous Twrch rushes in a succession of resounding falls. It is by contrasting the wilder and fiercer tracts of the landscape, with its milder features round the quiet hamlet and lake, that we add fresh zest to the interchange of feelings ever open to the Cambrian traveller. Bala lake is the most extensive in Wales, being nearly four miles in length, and three quarters of one in breadth, its banks consequently embracing a circuit of about nine miles. Its greatest depth is forty feet; and the water is said to be so pure, that the nicest chemical tests can detect scarcely any foreign admixture.

Be this as it may, the lake has abundance of pike, perch, trout, eels, and roach, with shoals of a fish called gwyniad, so named from the extreme whiteness of its scales. It is a gregarious fish, often found in the Alpine lakes, more especially those of Switzerland, and dies soon after it is taken. Its weight rarely exceeds four pounds, and its flavour is by many persons considered rather insipid; a circumstance that by no means recommends the gallantry of the late Lord Lyttelton, when he assures his friends that it is so exquisitely delicate as to more than rival in flavour the lips of the fair maids of Bala themselves. But, being so very good, and like the ladies of Bala, perhaps, sensible of their attractions, these fish have the shrewdness to keep out of harm’s way, as we are told, by remaining at the bottom of the water, where they feed on small shells and aquatic plants, from which scarcely any bait will induce them to emerge; they are, therefore, principally taken by nets. The angler may always be certain that, while a cloud rests on Aran, he may save himself the trouble of fishing in the lake. In former times the fishery is stated to have formed part of the possessions attached to Basingwerk Abbey, but has since fallen into the hands of Sir Watkin Williams Wynn, who has pitched his tent, in the shape of a neat sporting-box, quite according to the Irish rule, ‘convanient to the spot.’

Though now so calm and beautiful,—reflecting all the quiet and clearness of the heavens upon its breast, as the swallow skimmed its glassy surface, and the wild-fowl sought their home in its little bays and creeks,—the aspect of Bala Lake, when the storm is up, and ‘the winter wild’ puts on his terrors, can assume a very different kind of beauty. To see it when the autumnal winds ruffle its broad expanse with billows, or the clouds discharge their contents as fiercely as the torrent from the hills,—when the drifting rack and snow-storm mingle the last leaves of the year with the scattered beauty of the meads and gardens, the observer can no longer recognise the least resemblance in the characteristics of the two landscapes, the Bala of the opposite seasons.

Upon the north-east side, the water sometimes rises many feet above its usual level. When the winds and the rains, as I was informed, ‘meet and combine the whole of their forces,’ it is a grand sight to see the lake overshoot its banks, and rush beyond into the valley of old Edeirnion. Once, in the month of June, 1781, a part of the vicinity is believed to have been inundated by one of those singular occurrences, the bursting of an overcharged cloud, called a water-spout, which, however frequently beheld at sea, seldom visits the land. It was attended by terrific lightning and continuous rain, which caused the Twrch—fed by torrents from the Bwlch-y-Groes hills—to overflow and sweep every thing before it. The spoils of fields and villages, and even human life, marked the progress of the flood; and as far as Corwen the rising of the rivers suddenly burst on the ear of the affrighted people. The scene round Bala is recorded by the old inhabitants as heart-rending and terrific. The deep and dismal chasm, spanned by the one-arched bridge through which the stream of the llyn pours its flood down the wildest rocky falls, exhibited a magnificent sight, swelled by the mountain rains into one immense volume of foaming cataract, which again bursting from its black and caverned bed through the wooded glens beyond, rolled its unusual mass of burdened torrents to join the waters of the Twrch. Along the course of the Dee, huge branches, and some of the large forest-trees themselves, which threw a gloomier shadow over the stormy scene, were uprooted by the maddening storm and launched into the yawning flood. The lake rose with the impulse of the storm, till it assumed the aspect of a wild and restless sea, keeping stern music with the crashing of the neighbouring woods and the whistling of the blast, while, drowning the roar of the torrent, the thunder, ever and anon, startled the ear, and occasional flashes illuminating the sky exhibited for a moment the lurid and dreadful scene to view.

Bala is an excellent station for anglers, who are sure of good sport, and a delightful ramble on the banks of the lake.

The River Dee.

The name of the wizard stream is thought to have been derived from the Welsh word Dwfr-Dwy, that is, the waters of the two rivers. Some centuries ago the Dee was held in superstitious veneration by the inhabitants of the country, from what were then believed the miraculous overflowing of its banks at times when there had been no preceding heavy rains: and from its being believed to have foretold some remarkable events by changing its channel. History informs us, that when the Britons, drawn up in battle-array on its banks, had been prepared to engage with their Saxon foes, it was their custom first to kiss the earth, and then for every soldier to drink a small quantity of the water. The name is certainly not derived, as many have supposed, from _dû_, black; for, except when tinged by the torrents from the mountain morasses, its waters are perfectly bright and transparent. In Spenser’s description of Caer Gai, the dwelling of old Timon, foster-father of Arthur, the colour of the Dee is considered very different from black:

“Lowe in a valley green. Under the foot of Rawran mossie o’er, From whence the river Dee, as _silver clene_. His tempting billows roll with gentle roar.”

That lover of the marvellous, Giraldus Cambrensis, informs as very gravely, that the river Dee runs through Bala lake, and is discharged at the bridge near the town without their waters becoming mixed. He, doubtless, means to say, that the river might be traced by its appearance from one end of the lake to the other. Giraldus has the reputation of being very credulous.

The Dee, descending from Bala lake, passes under a small bridge, at the opposite end of which it enters, and from which the channel of the river is formed. It then winds along the beautiful vale of Corwen, about four miles below which it washes the eastern side of Denbighshire, and passing the bridge at Llangollen, it very soon forms the boundary division between England and Wales. Its chief tributaries are the Alwen, which has its rise in one of the lakes on the western part of the county; the Ceiriog, which descends from the slate mountains near Chirk; the Clywedog, which it receives below Bangor Is-y-coed; and the Alun, which rises in the mountains about Llandegla. It flows northward to Chester, Flintshire, and the Irish sea.

Close to Bala, on the Corwen road, is Rhiwlas, the seat of R. W. Price, Esq.: the house is situated on an eminence, in the midst of extensive grounds, and forms an interesting object, being profusely decorated with an evergreen, which likewise adorns the lodge-gates. A considerable stream, called the Tryweryn, which runs through the domain, adds much to the general beauty of this pretty retreat.

BANGOR. (_Caernarvonshire_.)

Abergele 27 Beaumaris, by the bridge 6½ Caernarvon 9 Capel Curig 14½ Conway 14½ Holyhead 24 London, by Chester 251 — by Shrewsbury 237 Plas Newydd 5 Penmaen Mawr 8½