Part 7
the elegant seat of Lord Uxbridge, situated in the Isle of Anglesey, and distant about six miles from Caernarvon: if the wind and tide prove favourable, the picturesque scenery of the Menai, will be viewed to great advantage, by hiring a boat at the quay. {116} But if this most advisable plan should not be approved of, the walk to the Mol-y-don Ferry, about five miles on the Bangor road, will prove highly gratifying: the Menai, whose banks are studded with gentlemens’ seats, appearing scarcely visible between the rich foliage of the oak, which luxuriates to the water’s brink, is filled with vessels, whose gay streamers, glittering to the sun-beam, present to the eye a constant, moving object; whilst the voice of the sailors, exchanging some salute with the passing vessel, is gently wafted on the breeze.
Crossing the ferry, we soon reached the ancient residence of the Arch-Druid of Britain, and where was formerly stationed the most celebrated of the ancient British Academies; from this circumstance, many places in this island still retain their original appellation, as _Myfyrim_, the Place of Studies; _Caer Edris_, the City of Astronomy; _Cerrig Boudyn_, the Astronomer’s Circle. The shore to the right soon brought us to the Plantations of Plâs-Newydd, consisting chiefly of the most venerable oaks, and noblest ash in this part of the country.
“—Superior to the pow’r Of all the warring winds of heaven they rise; And from the stormy promontory tower, And toss their giant arms amid the skies; While each assailing blast increasing strength supplies.”
BEATTIE’S _MINSTREL_.
Beneath their “broad brown” branches, we discovered several _cromlechs_, the monuments of Druidical superstition; several stones of enormous size support two others placed horizontally over them. {118} For what purpose these ancient relicks were originally erected, it was not for us puisne antiquarians to discuss, and with eager impatience we hurried to visit the noble mansion, which has not yet received the finishing stroke of the architect; sufficient however is accomplished to form a conjecture of its intended splendour and magnificence. The whole is built, stables included, in a Gothic castellated form, of a dark slate-coloured stone; on entering the vestibule, we, for a short time, imagined ourselves in the chapel, a mistake, though soon discovered, yet liable to happen to any visitor; the ceiling having Gothic arches, with a gallery suitable to it, and several niches cut in the side walls: we were next conduced through a long suite of apartments, the design of them all equally convenient and elegant. The landscape from the Gothic windows is both beautiful and sublime; a noble plantation of trees, the growth of ages—the winding strait of the Menai, gay with vessels passing and repassing; and beyond this tranquil scene, the long range of the Snowdon mountains shooting into the clouds, the various hues of whose features appear as beautiful, as their magnitude is sublime. The house is protected from the encroachment of the sea, by a strong parapet embattled wall; in fine, this magnificent seat of Lord Uxbridge, seems to possess many conveniencies peculiar to its situation: the warm and cold baths, constantly filled by the Menai, are sequestered and commodious, and every apartment of the house is abundantly supplied with water. {119a}
Being unavoidably prevented visiting the celebrated Paris mountain, the property of Lord Uxbridge and the Rev. Mr. Hughes, we again returned to the Hotel, at Caernarvon, purporting to stay the following day, (Sunday) for the purpose of making a strict enquiry into the religious sect, settled here, and in many parts of Wales, called _Jumpers_. {119b} The account we had received from our landlord, we imagined was exaggerated, and this more strongly induced us to visit the chapel, that we might be enabled, in future, to contradict this ridiculous report.
At six in the evening the congregation assembled, and on our entrance into the chapel, we observed on the north side, from a sort of stage or pulpit, erected on the occasion, a man, in appearance, a common day-labourer, holding forth to an ignorant and deluded multitude. Our entrance at first, seemed to excite a general dissatisfaction; and our near neighbours, as if conscious of their eccentricities, muttered bitter complaints against the admittance of strangers. The chapel, which was not divided into pews, and even destitute of seats, contained near an hundred people; half way round was erected a gallery. The preacher continued raving, and, indeed, foaming at the mouth, in a manner too shocking to relate:—he allowed himself no time to breathe, but seemingly intoxicated, uttered the most dismal howls and groans imaginable, which were answered by the congregation, so loud, as occasionally to drown even the voice of the preacher. At last, being nearly exhausted by continual vociferation, and fainting from exertion, he sunk down in the pulpit: the meeting, however, did not disperse; a psalm was immediately sung by a man, who, we imagine, officiated as clerk, accompanied by the whole congregation. The psalm had not continued long, before we observed part of the assembly, to our great surprise, _jumping_ in small parties of three, four, and sometimes five in a set, lifting up their hands, beating their breasts, and making the most horrid gesticulations. Each individual separately jumped, regularly succeeding one another, while the rest generally assisted the jumper by the help of their hands. The women always appeared more vehement than the men, and infinitely surpassed them in numbers; seeming to endeavour to excel each other in jumping, screaming, and howling. We observed, indeed, that many of them lost their shoes, hats, and bonnets, with the utmost indifference, and never condescended to search after them; in this condition, it is not unusual to meet them jumping to their homes. Their meetings are twice a week, Wednesdays and Sundays. Having accidentally met with a gentleman, at the Hotel, a native of Siberia, we invited him to our party, and, induced by curiosity, he readily accompanied us to the chapel. On the commencement of the _jumping_, he intreated us to quit the congregation, exclaiming, “Good God! I for a moment forgot I was in a Christian country; the dance of the Siberians, in the worship of the Lama, with their shouts and gesticulations, is not more horrid!” This observation so forcibly struck me, that I could not avoid inserting it in my note-book.
With disgust we left the chapel, and were given to understand, by our landlord, they celebrate a particular day every year, when instances have been known of women dying by too great an exertion; and fainting is frequently the consequence of their excessive jumping.
This sect is by no means confined to the town of Caernarvon, but in many villages, and in several market towns, both in North and South Wales, {122a} they have established regular chapels. “They have” (says a correspondent to the Gentleman’s Magazine, {122b}) “periodical meetings in many of the larger towns, to which they come from thirty to forty miles round. At one, held in Denbigh, about last April, there were, I believe, upwards of four thousand people, from different parts. At another, held in Bala, soon afterwards, nearly double that number were supposed to be present.” The last number appears rather to be exaggerated, though the latter, being dated from Denbigh, should be considered as authoritative.
Another correspondent to the Gentleman’s Magazine, gives the following information respecting the sect: “That they are not a distinct sect, but _Methodists_, of the same persuasion as the late Mr. Whitfield; for though there are several congregations of _Wesleyan Methodists_, in this country, there is no such custom amongst them. But jumping during religious worship is no new thing amongst the other party, having (by what I can learn) been practised by them for many years past. I have seen some of their pamphlets, in the Welch language, in which this custom is justified by the example of David, who danced before the ark; and of the lame man, restored by our blessed Saviour, at the gate of the Temple, who leaped for joy.” How far this gentleman’s account may be accurate, I leave for others to decide; it is certainly to be lamented, in a country where the Christian Religion is preached in a stile of the greatest purity and simplicity, that those poor ignorant deluded wretches should be led to a form of worship so dissonant to the Established Church of England, and, indeed, by a poor ignorant fellow, devoid of education, and devoid of sense.
The same road we had so much admired the preceding Saturday, soon brought us to
BANGOR,
the supposed scite of the Bovium, or Bonium, a Roman station, and celebrated for the most ancient British monastery, which contained two thousand four hundred monks: it has long retained its British name, _Bangor_, or _Bancher_, signifying “a beautiful quire;” an appellation it justly merits. The situation is deeply secluded, “far from the bustle of a jarring world,” and must have accorded well with monastic melancholy; for the Monks, emerging from their retired cells, might here indulge in that luxurious melancholy, which the prospect inspires, and which would sooth the asperities which the severe discipline of superstition inflicted on them. The situation of Banchor appears more like a scene of airy enchantment, than reality, and the residences of the canons are endeared to the votaries of landscape by the prospect they command. On the opposite shore, the town of Beaumaris is straggling up the steep declivity, with its quay crowded with vessels, and all appeared bustle and confusion; the contrast which the nearer prospect inspired, was too evident to escape our notice, where the
Oak, whose boughs were moss’d with age, And high top bald with dry antiquity,
afforded a seat for the contemplation of the wide expanse of the ocean, which is seen beyond the little Island of Puffin, or Priestholm; so called, from the quantity of birds of that species, which resort here in the summer-months.
The cathedral has been built at different times, but no part very ancient; it was made an episcopal see, about the time of the conquest: the church was burnt down by Owen Glendwr, in the reign of Henry IV. the choir was afterwards built by Bishop Henry Dene, {125a} between 1496 and 1500; the tower and nave by Bishop Skevington, 1532. The whole is Gothic architecture, with no other particular ornament to distinguish it from a common English parish church. There are, however, several bishops {125b} buried in the choir. I could dwell with pleasure on the picturesque beauties of this little episcopal see; but a repetition of the same epithets _grand_, _beautiful_, _sublime_, _fine_, with a long catalogue, which must necessarily occur, would appear tautologous on paper, though their archetypes in nature would assume new colours at every change of position of the beholder. From this retirement, a ferry-boat soon conveyed us to
BEAUMARIS,
the largest and best built town in Anglesea, where the same busy scene occurred. Having taken a short survey of Baron Hill, the seat of Lord Bulkley, commanding a fine prospect of the ocean, with the huge promontory of Pen-mawn-maur, we were soon convinced, that there was nothing to require a longer stay; and returning to Bangor, we pursued the road to Conway. About two miles on our left, we parted the Park and Castle of Penrhyn, the seat of Lord Penrhyn: this has lately been considerably enlarged and repaired, under the judicious direction of Mr. Wyat. The entrance is remarkably elegant, resembling a triumphal arch. This mansion enjoys a boundless prospect of the ocean on one side, appearing but feebly restrained by a long tract of scarcely visible coast on the other; in front, the flat Island of Anglesea, the lofty Pen-mawn-mawr, and the extensive point of Caernarvonshire: whilst the neat Church of Landegai forms a nearer object for admiration. We soon reached the dark lowering promontory of Pen-mawn-mawr, about eight miles from Bangor, rising perpendicularly, in a massy wall, to the height of one thousand four hundred feet: huge fragments of shattered rock are scattered by the side of the road, and a wall, scarcely five feet high, alone protects a carriage from the steep precipice; which, from the slightness of the foundation, has even fallen down in many parts. In this awfully sublime situation we remained for some time, astonished at the bold protuberance of the rocks, which seemed to project their dark sides, to augment the idle roar of the waves.
Pursuing a good turnpike-road, we soon came in sight of the hoary towers of
CONWAY CASTLE.
An air of proud sublimity, united with singular wildness, characterises the place. The evening was far advanced; and part of its ruins were shining with the purple glow of the setting sun, whose remaining features stood in darkened majesty, when we entered this monument of desolation. Passing over a plank, originally the scite of the draw-bridge, we came into the outward court, strongly defended with battlements; from thence we examined the grand entrance of the castle, with several abutments projecting forward, similar in stile to Caernarvon. On the south side of the court is the grand hall, measuring an hundred and thirty feet by thirty-two, with eight light Gothic arches, five of which are still in good condition. On one end is the chapel with a large window, a beautiful specimen of Gothic architecture. It is founded on the solid rock, by Edward I. in the year 1284: the walls are from eleven to fifteen feet thick: all the towers are defended by smaller round ones, projecting two or three feet over, with a regular communication round the whole castle by galleries, on the same plan as at Caernarvon. The steps are decayed and broken, and the looseness of the stones rendered a footing very insecure; but, impelled by an irresistible curiosity, we ascended the most perfect tower, and an extensive prospect presented itself to our view. The foundation of one of the principal towers, looking towards a small river, which here joins the Conway, has lately given way, and torn down with it part of the building; the remainder now hangs in an extraordinary manner. The whole town is enclosed within strong walls, and defended by a number of towers, which communicate with the castle by a gallery; there are likewise several gate-ways, at certain distances.
The ancient Church next attracted our attention; but did not detain us long, as the monuments for the Wynnes, are the only things worthy of inspection. From thence we surveyed the remains of the College, which in the reign of Edward I. was intended for the instruction of youth: it is now in complete ruins: the workmanship curious, with several sculptured arms. In this town is an ancient house, built in the form of a quadrangle, by the Wynnes, in the time of Elizabeth, now inhabited by poor families. This house is adorned, after the fantastical fashion of the times, in which it was erected; the roof is singularly carved, and the front decorated with the arms of England, with several curious crests, birds, and beasts: it bears the date of 1585. The arms of Elizabeth are carved over the door, fronting the street.
The trade of Conway consists in the exportation of slate, and copper from the Llandidno mines, from whence the finest specimens of the Malachite copper is brought. The town and castle of Conway are seen to great advantage in crossing the river, which is here nearly a mile over, and at high water washes the walls of that massy ruin: in the middle of the channel is a small rocky island. We observed, from this situation, the two castles, called Bodscaleen and Dyganwy; the small remains of the latter stand on a high rock above the river; the former is a beautiful seat of the Mostyns.
We were soon transported into Denbighshire; an extensive prospect of the ocean presented itself before us, and we discovered the mountains of the Isle of Man, which could scarcely be distinguished from the clouds of Heaven, and the waves of the sea. In descending a hill, about two miles from the neat bathing-town of
ABERGELE,
we observed, on our right, two immense caverns, about half way up the mountain; they are called Cavern-arogo, and run four or five hundred yards into the ground; but their real extent has never yet been ascertained with accuracy. From these mountains, vast quantities of lime are shipped for Liverpool, and many parts of England; they are said to be inexhaustible.
Abergele, situated on the edge of Rhuddlan Marsh, is a small neat town, of one street, resorted to in the summer-season for bathing. The sands afford excellent walking; in the evening we lingered on the beach for a considerable time, enjoying the calm, but cheerful beauty of Nature, and inhaling the pure sea-breeze—for,
“—The wind was hush’d, And to the beach each slowly-lifted wave, Creeping with silver curl, just kist the shore, And slept in silence.”—
MASON’S _Garden_.
With pleasure, mixed with reverential awe, we trod Rhuddlan Marsh, so celebrated in the annals of history. Here the ill-fated Richard the Second was betrayed into the hands of Bolinbroke, and taken prisoner to Flint: here the famous King {131} of Mercia met his untimely death: here the Welsh, under the command of Caradoc, in the year 795, were defeated in a conflict with the Saxons, and their leader slain in the action. This memorable and tragical event is handed down to posterity, by an ancient celebrated ballad, called _Morva Rhuddlan_, or the Marsh of Rhuddlan, composed by the bards on the death of Prince Caradoc.
The ground we trod, connected with so many events, revived in our minds, the memory of past ages, a series of historical events came to our recollection; events, that are now so distant, as almost to be obliterated from the page of history. Passing over a bridge of two arches, thrown over the river Clwyd, we entered
RHUDDLAN,
once the largest and most respectable town in North-Wales. Walking over the ruins of the castle, I recurred, by a natural association of ideas, to the times, when the Parliament-house, the balls, and courts echoed with the voices of those, who have long since been swept from the earth, by the unerring hand of death. One solitary Gothic window is now only remaining, to distinguish the old Parliament-house, where Edward the First instituted that famous code of laws, under the title of the _Statute of Rhuddlan_, from a neighbouring barn; and, what once contained the Parliament of England, now contains nothing but bark for the supply of a tan-yard.
The old castle is built of red stone; it consists of a square area, strongly fortified with a wall: this court we entered through the grand gate-way, between two round towers: the opposite side corresponds. The whole is encircled by a deep entrenchment, faced with stone on the river side, with two square towers, one of which still remains.
The road from hence to
ST. ASAPH,
affords a most rich and beautiful walk, extending along the celebrated vale of Clwyd. This rich tract of land, called, _The Eden of North-Wales_, extends in length about twenty-five miles, and in breadth about eight. The neighbourhood of Ruthin afford the best view of this vale: though it is by no means so interesting and romantic, as the vale of Glamorganshire, yet its high cultivation, and picturesque, but moderate height of the hills, rising on each side of the river Clwyd, renders the scenery pleasing: its chief produce is corn. Both these vales claim the attention of the traveller; and both have to boast of particular beauties. One mile from St. Asaph, we passed, on our right, the elegant seat of Sir Edward Lloyd. We still followed the banks the Clwyd, and at the farthest extremity a light elegant bridge, of seven arches, with the dark Tower of St. Asaph’s Cathedral, rising on an eminence just over it, gave a picturesque effect to the whole scenery.
The town itself is built on a hill, in one strait line, with a few neat houses. The Cathedral naturally demands attention; the inside is remarkably neat and elegant, entirely Gothic, with the ceiling of chesnut, and open ribs, like the skeleton of a ship: it has lately been repaired by Mr. Turner, architect of Whitchurch, at the great expence of two thousand four hundred pounds. The monument of David ap Owen, Bishop of this diocese, was particularly pointed out to us. The Bishop’s Palace has been entirely rebuilt by the present diocesan. The Choir consists of a Bishop, Dean, six Canons, seven Prebends, and four Vicars. There are no monuments in the church-yard, and few of any importance within its venerable walls.
St. Asaph receives its derivation from its patron, who established a Bishop’s see here, in the year 590: but in British it is named _Llan-Elwy_, on account of the conflux of the Elwy with the Clywd. It is singular, that the Bishop’s jurisdiction extends over no entire county, but part of Flintshire, Denbighshire, Montgomeryshire, Merionethshire, and Shropshire.
The tract of land extending from hence to
DENBIGH,
is extremely rich in wood, pasture, and corn, but very deficient in water; directly contrary to the rugged scenes of Caernarvonshire; the summits of whose mountains appeared still visible in the distant retrospect, mingling with the clouds. About a mile from St. Asaph, we were particularly pleased with an old oak, whose arms extending entirely across the road, formed a most elegantly shaped arch.
Denbigh, situated nearly in the centre of the vale of Clwyd, is a well-built town, standing on the declivity of a hill. A large manufactory of shoes and gloves is here carried on, and annually supplies London with a vast quantity. The ruins of the castle, still remaining on a rock, commanding the town, are too celebrated in history, and too cruelly shattered by the ravages of war, to be passed unnoticed. The principal entrance forms a fine Gothic arch, with the statue of King Edward the First its founder, above it, in an elegant nich, curiously carved, encircled with a square stone frame. No part of this castle is perfect; but the huge thick fragments, which are scattered in the most extraordinary and fantastical manner, seem to tell its former magnificence; and a present view of things, such as they are, with a retrospect of what they originally were, spreads a gloom over the mind, and interrupts the pleasure of contemplation; yet still, the singular character of this ruin is particularly interesting. Masses of wall still remain, the proud effigies of sinking greatness; and the shattered tower seems to nod at every murmur of the blast, and menace the observer with immediate annihilation. Amongst these ruins we lingered till the whole was silvered by the pale rays of the moon. To form a conjecture, on the extent of its apartments, is now impossible; but it is thus described by Leland, in his _Itinerary_:
“The castelle is a very large thinge, and hath many toures yn it; but the body of the worke was never finished.
“The gate-house is a marvellous strong and great peace of work, but the fastigia of it were never finished. If they had beene, it might have beene countid among the most memorable peaces of workys in England. It hath diverse wardes and dyverse portcolicis. On the front of the gate is set the image of Henry Lacy, earl of Lincoln, in his stately long robes.
“There is another very high towre, and larg, in the castelle caullid the Redde Towre.
“Sum say, that the erle of Lincoln’s sunne felle into the castelle welle, and ther dyed; whereupon he never passid to finisch the castelle.