Containing some particulars of Objects and Places mentioned in “The Trip.”

Chiefly extracted from “The Cambrian Traveller’s Guide,” a large and useful volume, published by Mr. George Nicholson, of Stourport.

PENMAEN-MAWR.

This mountain is the terminating point of the long Carnarvonshire chain. It is 1550 feet high, from the level of the sea. As late as the year 1772 there was only a narrow and dangerous path along the shelf upon its side; but since that period, a grant was made by Parliament, and a voluntary subscription entered into for the formation of the present useful and safe road, “the most sublime terrace in the British Isles.” It is guarded on the sea-side by a wall of about five feet high, add supported in many parts by deep walls below.—See pages 5 and 15.

PUFFIN ISLAND, OR PRIESTHOLME.

This uninhabited island is of an oval shape, about a mile in length, and half a mile in breadth. Near the centre is an old square tower, supposed to be the fragment of a religious house. During the summer the island swarms with various birds of passage, particularly the alca artica, or puffin. The firing of a gun will frequently cause clouds of these birds to rise, uttering loud and dissonant sounds.

PENRHYN CASTLE.

This edifice is supposed to stand upon the site of a palace, which, in the eighth century, belonged to Roderic Mwynog, grandson to Cadwalader, the last king of the Ancient Britons. It appears to have been rebuilt in the reign of Henry VI.; and although it has been greatly altered of late, the original design has been preserved. It is fronted with yellow brick, which gives it the appearance of stone. The gateway into the park resembles a Roman triumphal arch.

BEAUMARIS.

This pleasant little town is the capital of the island of Anglesea. Its name is formed from the French words beau, fair, and marais, marsh. The Castle was built by Edward I. towards the close of the thirteenth century, and its ruins are now included in the domains of Lady Bulkeley. On the accession of Charles II. Lord Bulkeley was Constable of the Castle. The lowness of its site, and the great diameter of its circular towers and bastions, together with the dilapidated state of its walls, deprive this structure, though exceedingly ponderous, of that prominent character and imposing effect so strikingly apparent in the prouder piles of Carnarvon and Conway. The town sends one member to Parliament.

BANGOR.

This is a Bishop’s see, in the county of Carnarvon, and is said to derive its name from bon, good, and choeur, choir; but this seems a strained etymology. It is supposed to have been formerly a more considerable place than it is at present. The views from the elevated environs are extremely fine. The Cathedral was founded in the sixth century, by St. Deiniol (Daniel) who was elected the first Bishop of Bangor. It was destroyed by the Saxons in 1071, and rebuilt by King John in 1212. In 1402 it was burnt down, in the rebellion of Owen Glyndwr, and remained in ruins upwards of ninety years. It was rebuilt early in the sixteenth century, chiefly by Bishop Sheffington. On a rocky eminence, about half a mile east from Bangor, formerly stood a castle, built by Hugh, Earl of Chester, in the reign of William II. Its site is still visible. The situation of the Bishop’s residence is much admired.

THE CHAIN-BRIDGE.

For a description of this magnificent and truly surprising structure, see pages 12 to 14.

CARNARVON.

This place is so called from Caer, a fortress, yn, in, and Arfon, the district opposite to Mon, or Anglesea. The ancient city was the only station possessed by the Romans in this part of Wales; it stood about half a mile south of the present town, where, probably, the British dwelt. The Castle is a magnificent ruin. It was built by Edward I. after the completion of his conquest in 1282; and as the Welsh would not submit quietly to be governed by any but a Welsh Prince, he caused his Queen (Eleanor) to reside here for a time, and here Edward II. was born. The Castle has been the scene of many memorable events, and is well worth an hour’s contemplation. Carnarvon sends one member to Parliament.—See page 8.

DOL BADERN CASTLE.

This small but conspicuous structure is the only one remaining of five military stations erected by the Ancient Britons to defend the five passes through the Carnarvonshire chain of mountains.—See page 10.

SNOWDON.

The Snowdon range of mountains commences at Penmaen-mawr, and terminates on the margin of Carnarvon bay. The height of the peak of Snowdon is 3568 feet.

CONWAY.

Conway (from Cynwy, great river) is a fine old fortified town, situated at the northern corner of Carnarvonshire. The Castle was built in 1284, by Edward I. as a security against insurrections. He was besieged in it, and only rescued by the arrival of his fleet. In the civil wars in the seventeenth century it was garrisoned by the Archbishop of York, and afterwards by Prince Rupert. The town and Castle were taken by storm in 1646, but the parliamentary forces did not injure the Castle, which was never greatly damaged, until the Earl of Conway, who received a grant of it from Charles II. despoiled it of timber, lead, iron, &c. for his own use. A stranger will be much struck by the general appearance of Conway, which forms an interesting picture, and is very unlike any other place in the kingdom.—See page 16.

Graphic of a hand pointing right The writer of “the Trip” had no opportunity of visiting Capel Cerig, or Beddgelert; but no person should omit to do so when time will permit. From Carnarvon a most delightful tour may be made to Beddgelert, Capel Cerig, Snowdon, Llanberris lake, and back to Carnarvon.

CAPEL CERIG.

This village is said to have been called Capel Curig, in consequence of St. Curig being the patron of the chapel. From this place Snowdon and all the contiguous mountains burst at once full in view, marking this the finest approach to our boasted Alps. The scenery in the neighbourhood is full of variety and beauty.

BEDDGELERT.

This romantic village is said to derive its name from a singular occurrence. Tradition says, that Llewellyn the Great came to reside at Beddgelert during the hunting season, with his wife and children, and one day, the family being absent, a wolf had entered the house. On returning, his greyhound, called Cilihart, met him, wagging his tail, but covered with blood. The prince being alarmed, ran into the nursery, and found the cradle in which the child had lain overturned, and the ground covered with gore. Imagining the greyhound had killed the child, he immediately drew his sword and slew him; but, on turning up the cradle, he found under it the child alive, and the wolf dead. This so affected the prince, that he erected a tomb over his faithful dog’s grave, where, afterwards, the parish-church was built, and called from this accident, Bedd-Cilihart, or The Grave of Cilihart. This incident gave rise to the following pathetic verses:

THE GRAVE OF THE GREYHOUND.

The spearmen heard the bugle sound,
And cheer’ly smiled the morn,
And many a breach, and many a hound
Attend Llewellyn’s horn.

And still he blew a louder blast,
And gave a louder cheer,
“Come, Gelert, why art thou the last
Llewellyn’s horn to hear?

“O where does faithful Gelert roam!
The flow’r of all his race:
So true, so brave,—a lamb at home,
A lion in the chase!”

’Twas only at Llewellyn’s board
The faithful Gelert fed;
He watch’d, he serv’d, he cheer’d his lord,
And sentinel’d his bed.

In sooth he was a peerless hound,
The gift of Royal John:
But now no Gelert could be found,
And all the chase rode on.

And now as over rocks and dells
The gallant chidings rise.
All Snowdon’s craggy chaos yells,
With many mingled cries.

That day Llewellyn little lov’d
The chase of hart or hare,
And scant and small the booty proved,
For Gelert was not there.

Unpleas’d Llewellyn homeward hied,
When, near the portal seat,
His truant Gelert he espied,
Bounding, his lord to greet.

But when he gain’d the Castle door,
Aghast the chieftain stood—
The hound was smear’d with gouts of gore
His lips and fangs ran blood!

Llewellyn gazed with wild surprise;
Unus’d such looks to meet;
His fav’rite check’d his joyful guise,
And crouch’d and lick’d his feet.

Onward in haste Llewellyn past,
And on went Gelert too;
And still where’er his eyes he cast,
Fresh blood gouts shock’d his view.

O’erturned his infant’s bed he found,
The blood-stain’d covert rent;
And all around the walls and ground,
With recent blood besprent.

He call’d his child—no voice replied—
He search’d with terror wild;
Blood, blood, he found on every side,
But nowhere found the child;

“Hell-hound, by thee my child’s devour’d,”
The frantic father cried,
And to the hilt his vengeful sword
He plunged in Gelert’s side.

His suppliant, as to earth he fell,
No pity could impart;
But still his Gelert’s dying yell,
Past heavy o’er his heart.

Arous’d by Gelert’s dying yell,
Some slumb’rer waken’d nigh;
What words the parent’s joy can tell,
To hear his infant cry!

Conceal’d beneath a mangled heap;
His hurried search had miss’d,
All glowing from his rosy sleep,
His cherub boy he kiss’d.

No scratch had he, nor harm nor dread;
But, the same couch beneath,
Lay a great wolf, all torn and dead,
Tremendous still in death!

Ah, what was then Llewellyn’s pain,
For now the truth was clear;
The gallant hound the wolf had slain,
To save Llewellyn’s heir.

Vain, vain, was all Llewellyn’s woe:
“Best of thy kind adieu:
The frantic deed that laid thee low,
This heart shall ever rue.”

And now a gallant tomb they raise,
With costly sculpture deck’d;
And marbles storied with his praise,
Poor Gelert’s bones protect.

Here never could the spearmen pass,
Or forester unmov’d;
Here oft the tear-besprinkled grass,
Llewellyn’s sorrow prov’d.

And here he hung his horn and spear—
And oft as evening fell,
In fancy’s piercing sounds would hear
Poor Gelert’s dying yell!

And till great Snowdon’s rocks grow old,
And cease the storm to brave,
The consecrated spot shall hold
The name of Gelert’s grave!

FINIS.