Part 11

It is now in a ruinous state. The view from the ruins over the bay to Haerlech is beautiful. In the neighbourhood of Pwllheli are several respectable family seats; and the country in its vicinity is generally better cultivated than the rest of the promontory: the town itself is irregular and unpleasant; but it carries on a good coasting trade, and vessels of considerable burthen are here built. The petty sessions for the district of Llyn are held here; it is likewise contributory to Caernarvon, in sending a member to parliament. Along the coast to Bardsey Island, a considerable trade in fishing is carried on. Herrings frequent this coast in great abundance, and are very fine: some are cured here, and quantities sold to the Irish. Here likewise are taken both john dories and smelts; the former of which was rejected by the fishermen on the score of its ugliness.

To sail from hence to Bardsey Island is both tedious and dangerous. Passing the bay called Hell’s Mouth, of which Mr. Bingley says, “I never saw a place which presented so favourable an appearance, and that was at the time so much dreaded by the mariners as the present. It is at the very end of the promontory, and from point to point is supposed to measure about eight miles; it is also nearly semicircular. None but strange vessels, even in the most boisterous weather, ever seek for shelter here; and when they are so unfortunate, they are soon stranded, and never again return. ‘We remember,’ says Mr. Jones, in one of his letters, ‘more misfortunes to have happened in this bay, and more inhumanity shewn to the sufferers, than we have ever heard of any where else on the Welsh coast.’ My pilot, who had been long acquainted with every part of these coasts, informed me, that, from whatever point of the compass the wind blew out at sea, on account of the surrounding high rocks, it always came into the mouth of this bay; and from whatever quarter the tide flowed, the upper current here always sets inwards. From these circumstances the common tradition is, that the place obtained the appellation of _Hell’s Mouth_.

“The whole coast, from the Rivals round the end of the land, nearly to Pwllheli, is terminated only by high and steep rocks, inhabited in the summer by a variety of sea-fowl.” Mr. Bingley, having failed in his attempt to land in Bardsey, gives the following account of that island, from the letters of the Rev. — Jones, vicar of Aberdaron, to whose parish it belongs.

ISLAND OF BARDSEY.

“This island, which is the property of Lord Newborough, is somewhat more than two miles long, and one in breadth, and contains about three hundred and seventy acres of land; of which nearly one-third is occupied by a high mountain, that affords feed only for a few sheep and rabbits. Its distance from the main land is about a league. Towards the south-east and south-west it lies entirely open, but on the north and north-east it is sheltered by its mountain, which to the sea presents a face of perpendicular, and in some parts overhanging rocks. Among these precipices the intrepid inhabitants, in the spring of the year, employ themselves in collecting the eggs of the various sea-fowl that frequent them. This is usually done bare-footed, to prevent them from slipping from heights, whence they must be dashed to pieces; and their concern for their safety while seizing these eggs, is infinitely less than that of the beholder, sitting securely in the boat below.

Nor untrembling canst thou see, How from a craggy rock, whose prominence Half o’ershades the ocean, hardy men Fearless of dashing waves do gather them.

“These poor fellows do not often meet with accidents, except by the giving way of pieces of the rock. In this case they are irrecoverably lost. The men who venture without ropes are accounted by the natives the most bold climbers: those who are more cautious fix a rope about their middle, which is held by some persons on the top of the rock. By this they slip down to the place where they think the most eggs are to be found. Here, untying it from their body, they fasten it to the basket that is to contain the eggs, which they carry in their hand. When this is filled, they make a signal to their companions to draw them up. In this manner they proceed from rock to rock, ascending or descending as they find it necessary. They adopt the same modes in collecting samphire, with which the rocks also abound.

“On the south-east side of the island, the only side on which it is accessible to the mariner, there is a small but well-sheltered harbour, capable of admitting vessels of thirty or forty tons burthen. In this the inhabitants secure their own fishing-boats. The soil is principally clay, and produces excellent barley and wheat; vetches, peas, and beans, are said to succeed sufficiently well; but to oats it is not so favourable. Trees will not grow here, the keen westerly winds immediately destroying the young plants. Indeed, except a small quantity of fine meadow land, all the lower ground of the island is of little value. No reptile is ever seen in this island, except the common water lizard. None of the inhabitants ever saw in it a frog, toad, or snake of any kind.

“Till about fourteen years ago, no sparrows had been known to breed here: three nests were, however, built, during the same spring, and the produce has since completely colonized the place.

“There are here but eight houses, although the number of inhabitants is upwards of seventy. Two or three of the principal of these rent the island of Lord Newborough. They pay for it a hundred guineas a-year, and have their land tithe free; and are also freed from taxes and rates of every description. They keep about twenty horses and near thirty cows. All the former, though greatly overstocking so small a place, are absolutely necessary, on account of the great labour required in carrying up the sea-weeds from the coast for manure.

“The sheep are small, and on the approach of a stranger, as Mr. Jones informs me, they squall not much unlike hares. Their activity is very remarkable. In the year 1801, Mr. Jones had one of them on his farm, at Aberdaron, that had twice ventured through the sea, though the channel is three miles across, and regained the island. The inhabitants train their dogs to catch them; but if the sheep once gain the rocks, they bid defiance to every attempt for the time, as, rather than suffer themselves to be seized, they will plunge from thence into the sea. At the time of the year when the females usually drop their offspring, the inhabitants watch them every day, and before they are able to follow their dams, they mark them in the ears: they then suffer them to range at liberty. Without this attention, from the extreme wildness of the animals, the owners would never be able to distinguish their respective property. Some few of the sheep of the island, from having been rendered tame when young, are more easily managed: these alone submit to be folded in the evening.

“Curiosity induces many persons to visit this island almost every summer; but the grandest sight the present inhabitants ever witnessed, was a visit of the proprietor, Lord Newborough, and several persons of distinction, in the whole to the number of about forty. This company embarked in fishing-smacks from Porther, near Carreg Hall, in the parish of Aberdaron. On their arrival in the island marquees were immediately pitched. The whole company dined in the open air; and at the conclusion of their repast, all the inhabitants were assembled. The ensuing scene reminded a gentleman of my acquaintance, who was present, of what he had read respecting the inhabitants of some of the South Sea islands. They were drawn up into a circle, and Lady Newborough adorned the heads of the females with caps and ribbons, whilst Lord Newborough distributed hats among the men. The nominal king and queen of the island were distinguished from the rest by an additional ribbon.”

Mr. B. concludes by giving the following history of Bardsey.

“The Welsh name of this place is Ynys-Enlli. During the violent struggles between the Welsh and English, it was styled by the poets the sanctuary or asylum of the Saints, and it was sometimes denominated the Isle of Refuge. Some of these poets assert that it was the cemetery of _twenty thousand saints_! {155}

“The reputed sanctity of this island induced the religious to resort to it, from many very distant parts of the country. It has been asserted by several writers, that Roderic Moelwynog, prince of North Wales, first founded here a monastery, some time in the eighth century. He might, perhaps, rebuild or enlarge it, but there are good grounds, from Welsh manuscripts, for supposing that there was a religious house in this island of a much more early date. There is an old legend yet extant, written in Monkish Latin, which assures us that the Almighty had entered into a particular covenant with Laudatus, the first abbot of Bardsey, in return for the piety of his monks. This granted to all the religious of the monastery of Bardsey, the peculiar privilege of dying according to seniority, the oldest always going off first. By this privilege, it is stated, that every one knew very nearly the time of his departure. The following is a translation of it:—‘At the original foundation of the monastery of this island, the Lord God who attendeth to the petitions of the just, at the earnest request of the holy Laudatus, the first abbot, entered into a covenant with that holy man, and miraculously confirmed his promise, unto him, his successors, the abbots and monks for ever, while they should lead holy and religious lives, that they should die by succession, that is, that the oldest should die first, like a shock of corn ripe for the sickle. Being thus warned of the approach of death, each of them, therefore, should watch, as not knowing at what exact hour the thief might come; and, being thus always prepared, each of them by turns should lay aside his earthly form. God, who is ever faithful, kept his covenant, as he formerly did with the Israelites, inviolable; until the monks no longer led a religious life, but began to profane and defile God’s sanctuary by their fornications and abominable crimes. Wherefore, after this, they were permitted to die like other men, sometimes the older, sometimes the younger, and sometimes the middle-aged first; and, being thus uncertain of the approach of death, they were compelled to submit to the general laws of mortality. Thus, when they ceased to lead a holy and religious life, God’s miraculous covenant also ceased: and do thou, therefore, O God, have mercy upon us.”

The ancient building is now entirely destroyed; but, about the ground where the monastery stood, a great number of graves have very lately been discovered, lined with white stone or tile, and distant about two feet from each other. All the religious duties of the inhabitants are now performed in the parish church of Aberdaron. Sometimes, however, in stormy weather, they are under the necessity of interring their own dead in the island.

At Pwllheli good accommodation will be found at the Crown and Anchor Inn, but if proceeding farther into Llyn, the traveller must depend solely on the hospitality of individuals.

PWLLHELI.

The market-days at this place are Wednesdays and Saturdays. Its population is rated at about thirteen hundred. The beach here is excellent; and so much resorted to in the summer season, that it appears probable it will grow into notice as a sea bathing-place. Several hundred acres of land in the vicinity of the town, which used to be overflowed by high tides, have been reclaimed by embankments on both sides of the town. It is governed by a mayor, two bailiffs, and a recorder.

Returning from Pwllheli towards Criccaeth, the country wears the most beautiful aspect. The richly wooded scenery is relieved by shaggy rocks and partial views of the sea being caught through the opening glades. Passing Llandstundwy, situate on the river Dwyfor, which after heavy rains overflows its banks, and greatly incommodes it, I left the road, and proceeded by Trefan Hall, the handsome mansion of Mr. Roberts, to a cromlech, about a mile distant, called Coeten Arthur, or Arthur’s Quoit, which the said Arthur, as report says, threw from a mountain near Beddgelert. It is handsome and in high preservation: the top stone is nearly three feet in thickness. But a still finer cromlech is about a mile from this, at a farm called Ystim Cegid; the flat stone of this is about eighteen inches in thickness, and is about thirty-six feet in circumference: its form is triangular, and its supporters of that height, that will allow a man on horseback to go under it; this also is called Arthur’s Quoit. From hence to Criccaeth the road is dull and uninteresting: near the ruins of the small chapel of Bettws, is Chewilog, an old mansion, formerly belonging to the ancestors of Sir Howel, surnamed y-Fwyall, from his remarkable dexterity in the use of the battle-axe, which weapon he used with such effect in the battle of Poictiers, that the capture of the French monarch is, by many, ascribed to him; at all events, his conduct on that day drew down upon him the regards of the Black Prince to such extent, that he not only bestowed upon him the constableship of Criccaeth Castle, but likewise knighted him; and, in perpetual memorial of his good services, it was directed that a mess of meat should, at the expence of the crown, be every day served up before the axe with which he had performed such good service. After the mess had been brought before the knight, it was taken and distributed among the poor. Eight yeomen attendants were constituted to guard the mess, who received each eight-pence a-day pay, and were termed yeomen of the crown: these were continued on the establishment till the reign of Queen Elizabeth; and it is by many conceived, and by no means improbable, that the yeomen of the crown, which we do not read of in history till the reign of Henry the Seventh, are indebted to these for their origin. After the death of Sir Howel, the mess was still carried before the axe, and bestowed on the poor for the repose of his soul. Besides the above honours conferred upon him, he was constable of Chester Castle; had Dwyfor and others, the king’s mills, to farm; with a grant of the weirs and fisheries on the coast, and many other offices of great trust and profit.

Between Criccaeth and Penmorva you pass Stumllyn, formerly the seat of the Wynnes, now the seat of — Jones, Esq. of Machynlleth. Near Clenenney, on Bwlch Craig Wenn, is a fine Druidical circle, consisting at present of thirty-eight stones; and about a mile from this, above Penmorva, is another. On Llysdin farm some small urns, containing human bones and ashes, have lately been discovered. At a small distance is Brynkir, where Lord Lyttleton took up his residence when he visited this part of the principality. This part of the country was formerly the seat of dreadful feuds, and appears to have been inhabited by a most ferocious and irascible set of beings. They were of two clans, one descended from Owen Gwynedd, Prince of North Wales; the other was derived from Collwyn ap Tangno. The history of Evionedd, or Eifionydd, is during that period one of revenge, perfidy, and slaughter; and to such extent was it carried, that Meredith ap Jevan preferred taking up his residence in Dolwyddelan Castle, at that time surrounded by robbers and freebooters, to residing in this district, giving to his friends the following decisive reason: “If,” said he, “I live in my own house in Evionedd, I must either kill my own kinsmen, or submit to be murdered by them.” He, therefore, rather chose to fight with thieves and outlaws than with his own immediate relatives.

“They would quarrel,” says Sir John Wynne, “if it was but for the mastery of the country, and the first good morrow. John Owen, ap John, ap Meredydd, and Howel ap Madoc Vychan, fell out for no other reason. Howel and his people fought valiantly: when he fell, his mother placed her hand on his head, to prevent the fatal blow, and had half her hand and three of her fingers cut off, by some of her nearest kindred. An attempt was made to kill Howel ap Rhys, in his own house, by the sons of John ap Meredith, for no other reason than that their servants had quarrelled about a fishery. The first set fire to the mansion with great bundles of straw:—the besieged, terrified with the flames, sheltered themselves under forms and benches, while Rhys, the old hero, stood sword in hand, reproaching his men with cowardice, and telling them he had often seen a greater smoke in that hall on Christmas even.

“These flagitious deeds seldom met with any other punishment than what resulted from private revenge, and too often composition was made for the most horrible murders. There was a _gwerth_, or price of blood, from the slaughter of a king, to the cutting off one of his subject’s little fingers.”—_Williams’s Caernarvon_.

PENMORFA,

the Head of the Marsh, is a wood-clad village, romantically situated in a nook, between some high rocks at the end of a tract of meadows, on the western bank of Traeth Mawr.

The church contains a monument to the memory of Sir John Owen, a valiant commander in the army, and a staunch supporter of Charles I. Being tried with the Earl of Holland, Lords Loughborough, Goring, and other noble supporters of the royal cause, after the death of the king, he exhibited a spirit coinciding with his former noble daring; and, on being condemned to lose his head, he bowed to the court, thanking them for the honour they intended him. On being asked by a member what he meant, in his usual blunt manner he replied, “I think it a great honour for a poor gentleman of Wales to lose his head with such noble lords:—by G—, I was afraid you would have hanged me.”

Great intercession being made for the other noble personages, and no one applying or interesting themselves on behalf of Sir John, Cromwell, as related by some authorities, and Hutchinson and Ireton, as stated by others, interfered for the worthy knight, whose life was spared: after a few months’ confinement he was allowed to retire to Clenenney, where he died.

Mr. Williams, rector of Llanberis, from whose work, recently published, on the history, antiquities, &c. of Caernarvonshire, I before quoted, says, in speaking of the situation of Penmorfa, and the meadows lying between it and Traeth Mawr, “they were formerly subject to the overflowing of the higher tides, till an embankment was made by W. A. Madox, Esq. a gentleman to whom this part of the country is greatly indebted for numerous and great improvements, particularly for the erection of an embankment, about a mile in length, in order to reclaim some thousand acres of land, and which now forms a safe and convenient road between the counties of Caernarvon and Merioneth, across the estuary of Traeth Mawr; whereas, formerly, many lives were lost in going over those dangerous sands. Tremadoc, a new town, which bears the name of its founder, is about a mile distant from Penmorfa, and contains from eighty to a hundred houses. Here is a handsome new church, a market-place, a comfortable inn, and a great number of good shops. Near the town are several good houses, built by the same gentleman, particularly Tan-yr-Allt, Morva Lodge, &c.; all of which, as well as every thing in or about this little town, evidently prove the individual who planned and conducted the whole, to be a person of cultivated mind, improved taste, and superior judgment and ability. A market has been established here, and the fairs, which used to be at Penmorfa on the following days, March 6, May 14, August 20, September 25, and November 12, have mostly deserted that place, and are held at Tremadoc. Here is an excellent salmon fishery, a good shore for bathing, and a safe harbour for vessels under 120 tons burthen. It is greatly to be lamented; that the beneficial improvements by the before-mentioned public-spirited gentleman, W. A. Madox, Esq. and carried by him to such a state of forwardness, should not be completed. In the year 1625, Sir John Wynne, of Gwydir, conceived the great design of gaining this immense track (Traeth Mawr), as well as the lesser one (Traeth Bach), from the sea, by means of an embankment; and for that purpose he implored the assistance of his illustrious countryman, Sir Hugh Middleton, in a letter which has been preserved, and, together with that gentleman’s reply, printed in Mr. Pennant’s Tour. A bridge over Traeth Bach, and a new line of road along the sea-coast to Barmouth, with a stage coach or some other more regular mode of conveyance between North and South Wales, particularly during the summer months, are still left among the desiderata of this portion of the principality.”

From Tremadoc, an excellent road of about five miles brought us to the far-famed Pont Aber-Glaslyn, or the bridge of the harbour of the Blue Lake; and not uncommonly styled the Devil’s Bridge. This last appellation has very frequently misled strangers, who, confounding it with the well-known bridge at Havod, have been much disappointed, their expectations being raised very high, from the general description of that place. Of this, indeed, we found an instance on the very spot. This bridge connects the two counties of Merioneth and Caernarvon; being, from the parapet to the water, forty feet. From the description of former tourists, it did not answer our expectations; but the salmon-leap is an interesting object from the bridge: the height is about fifteen feet; and, though we observed very many attempt this surprising feat of agility, not one succeeded. Some fishermen below soon excited our curiosity, and salmon was here offered for sale at three-pence per pound.

An intelligent man here offered himself as our guide to the rich copper-mines, in the vicinity of Pont Aber-Glaslyn. This miner, having worked both here and at the Parys Mountain, confidently asserted, that one pound of this ore was now esteemed equivalent to twice the quantity produced in Anglesea. Yet, for a considerable time, little advantage was derived from the concern, till a company obtained a lease of the mountain from Mr. Lloyd, the proprietor: and having placed an intelligent agent in a house near the mines, entered on the concern with that spirit which merited success. Stupendous cliffs, by the road side, literally rise eight hundred and sixty feet perpendicularly, and hang in the most capricious forms over the torrent; which, straggling amongst the recesses of stone, is hastening forward to disembogue itself into the estuary of Traeth Mawr. The pass is not more than seventy feet; after much rain it is entirely inundated by the overflowings of the Glaslyn, which reflect, as in a mirror, the blackness of the impending cliffs. On the Caernarvonshire side are several lead mines; but they have not proved sufficiently rich to reward the labour of working.

The situation of our inn at

BEDDGELERT

is very romantic, and would form an interesting drawing, by taking in a small bridge of two arches below the house. It is completely encircled by lofty mountains, which may be considered as subject to the “cloud-capt Snowdon.”