Bala—The Lake—A Meeting of Magistrates—The Doctor—Rhewlas—Lines written at Rhewlas—Farewell to the Bull’s Head—A Jolter—Llanthyn—Vale of Drwstynrnt—Legend of handsome Hugh and the Fairy—Cader Idris—Dolgelley—Song “Mountain Mary”—The Town Hall—Parliament House—St. Mary’s Church—Inns—Angling Station, Doluwcheogryd—The Cataracts of Rhaiadr Du and Pistyll y Cain—Nannau Park—Anecdote of Owen Glyndwr and Howell Sele—Road to Barmouth—Arrival—Inns—A Walk on the sands.

“I lay on the rock where the storms have their dwelling,
The birth place of phantoms, the home of the cloud,
Around it for ever deep music is swelling—
The voice of the mountain wind, solemn and loud.”

Mrs. Hemans.

On the following morning, I found myself unable to walk, from the effect produced by a sprained ancle, and I had the delightful prospect of being confined to the room of an inn in a country town, without a being to converse with, or a book to enliven me; but my kind landlord, a fine portly, rosy-cheeked, round-headed, honest-hearted Boniface, as ever drew spigot, kindly offered me a pony, to take me to the lake, which, he said, contained plenty of perch. This offer, I thankfully accepted, and, by the aid of mine host and his ostler, was soon seated upon the back of a quiet not-to-be-put-out-of-his-way animal, as any clerical gentleman could desire to ride upon, and

“With slow and solemn pace,”

proceeded to catch fish, and view the scenery around

LLYN TEGID, OR BALA LAKE.

Bala Lake

Seated upon a rock that projects into the lake (under the shadow of which is the boat house of Mr. Price, of Rhewlas, of whom, more anon) I commenced my solitary pastime; but my eyes continually wandered from the float, to the surrounding scenery, which is of a pleasing rather than an imposing nature. The lake was slightly ruffled by a refreshing breeze, which fortunately sprang up, and prevented me from dissolving in the heat of the sun. It is about four miles in length, and in some parts it is forty yards in depth. The shores are sloping, the soil gravelly, and delightfully variegated with plantations of trees and shrubs. Towards the head of the lake, the mountains are upon a very grand scale, and rival Snowdon in their altitude; Arran Fowddwy is the loftiest of these, near the summit of which, upon its eastern side, beneath a huge crag, is situated a lake, which affords excellent sport to the angler, although the fish are not of the finest quality.

Arrenig Vawr, (or great), which is nearly as lofty as Arran Fowddwy, and rises upon the N.W. side of the Llyn, has also a lake, containing trout of a large size, which are noted for rejecting the artificial fly; but, about half way up the Arrenig VÂch, (or little) is a lake, which when a light breeze sweeps along its surface, will amply reward the angler for his trouble, in reaching it. A morning, and an evening, at each of these places, enable me to state thus much, for the benefit of the disciples of Isaac Walton.

I was suddenly aroused from a dream of pleasure, which I was enjoying, with my eyes open, by a tug at my line, reminding me, that a fish had swallowed the hook. After a little coquetting, which lovers usually make use of, I brought it to my arms, and then thrust it into my bag; a fine perch! I now resolved, to begin in earnest, and in an hour, by my temptation and insinuation, contrived to obtain a very handsome dish, with which I returned upon my pony to the inn, resigning them and myself to the care of Martha Jones. This was the only uncomfortable evening I passed at the Bull—and with respect be it spoken, all my uneasiness was occasioned, by the magistrates of the county, who had met to discuss the important business of their various districts, and to join in the

“Feast of dainties and the flow of port.”

All the while, the honest landlord, who resembled a “turtle on his hind fins,” waddled about in high glee. It was a great day for the Bull’s Head! and his joy resembled Dennis Bulgruddery’s, of the Red Cow, when he saw a traveller on the heath, walking in the direction of his long neglected hostelry. The confusion of sounds distracted my brain, and I was almost tempted to exclaim, in the language of Falstaff,

“Is hell broke loose?”

However, remembering that it was occasioned, by a meeting of magistrates, my reverence for the laws, and the distributors of them, made me place my disabled foot upon a chair, “like patience on a monument, smiling at grief.”

I was informed that Mr. Price was among the assembly, to whom, through the kindness of Mr. W—, I had a letter of introduction. My accident, however, would prevent my dining with the party, and I concluded it would be better to wait until the ensuing morning, to pay my respects to him. A couple of ducks, with green peas, and a pint of pale sherry, assisted to restore my good humour; and, after poring over the pages of an old magazine, till the book became a pillow for my head, I had my foot dressed and resigned myself to the influence of Morpheus. My bed room window (the blinds of which, I had neglected to pull down, before I retired to bed) permitted the full blaze of the morning sun to shine upon my slothful pillow, and rouse me from my slumber. A great fault, in all the Welsh inns, is that Morpheus seems to have complete and undisputed prevalence over the whole household. After satisfying myself that I could walk across the room, I thought I would endeavour to see something more of the town, and stroll about, until such time as breakfast could be prepared. I accordingly dressed, put on the spacious slippers I had been provided with on the previous night, took a strong ash stick in my hand, by way of crutch, and hobbled into the pure air.

The town of Bala consists of one long street, has about 2500 inhabitants, and is celebrated for its manufacture of woollen articles, such as stockings, gloves, and, formerly, Welsh wigs. Upon an eminence at the S. E. end of the town, the old women and young girls assemble in considerable numbers during the summer months, to pursue their industrious avocations in the open air. The mound is called, Tommen y Bala; it is said to be of Roman construction; and, from the summit, a very fine view may be obtained of Llyn Tegid and the mountains. There is a town hall, and a chapel of ease to the parish church at Llanycil, about a mile distant, where the morning service is read in English only upon the first Sunday in each month. Finding my exertion too great for my ease, I was glad to hobble into the shop of the village apothecary and surgeon. It was half past eight o’clock, and the drowsy shop boy, who appeared but recently to have left his bed, informed me, that perhaps his master would be down in a short time. This indefinite period did not suit my patience, and I requested him to give his master a call. Still he came not. I became fidgetty, and began to be indignant, half resolving to leave the shop, when a little, stiff, consequential looking personage made his appearance, gazing upon me with a look in which much dissatisfaction was manifest. My travelling garb (for I had not discarded my shooting jacket, at this early hour, in favour of a more appropriate morning costume) did not inspire him with much suavity; but, after a minute survey, he, with all the dignity of five feet, pointed to a chair, which I a short time before had quitted to look at some maps that adorned the walls of the room, I bared my ancle for his inspection, and he informed me truly, that rest alone could be of service to me. With this comfortable advice, which I had previously determined not to follow, I returned to the inn, breakfasted, ordered out the pony, and set off to visit Mr. Price, of Rhewlas.

A handsome gateway opens into the grounds of Rhewlas; a neat lodge is situated upon the right of the avenue, and upon the left, a fine mountain stream dashes over its black, rocky bed. Half way up the avenue, upon the right, is a beautiful dingle, over which a bridge is thrown for the accommodation of passengers, and under it a murmuring rill, glides on its course to the principal stream. A profusion of rhododandrums, of a kind, are interspersed amongst the trees, and shrubs, forming a delightful contrast. Here the noble oak, the beech, and birch, flourish luxuriously in common with the other numerous leafy tenants of the forest, whose ever varying hues delight the eye.

The house is situated on a rising ground, backed by the mountain and extensive woods, and commands a noble prospect.

After dinner, I accompanied Mr. Price in his phaeton, to take a survey of the estate, and was much delighted with the evident pleasure he took, in improving the roads in the neighbourhood. Under his auspices, a new line of road is joined to Corwen, which, although deficient in picturesque beauty, is shorter by one mile than that by Llandrillo, and affords far better travelling.

Mr. Price has planted, during his residence at this lovely spot, no less than 650 acres, and the domain altogether presents a picture of beauty and happiness, seldom to be met with. He is much respected; is a magistrate, and a resident; and, in consequence, knows the value of his land. He considers, and administers to the wants of his tenants, and, instead of extorting from them a rent they would be compelled to starve themselves to pay, he limits it to a sum which will enable them to live in comfort.

It was twilight when I left Rhewlas, and by the side of the dingle I have before mentioned, I paused to gaze once more upon the beauty of the scene, and traced a few lines, expressive of my feelings, upon quitting so delightful a solitude.

Farewell to fair Rhewlas! and farewell to thee,
Thou pride of the vallies, thou fast flowing Dee!
Whose stream glides in brightness from Bala’s fair breast,
And wanders in beauty through regions of rest.
Farewell to thee, Rhewlas! how blest were my lot,
With friends round and near me, the gay world forgot,
Here, here, in the soft lap of quiet to dwell,
Farewell to thee Rhewlas! sweet Rhewlas, farewell!

The bright golden summer hath fill’d thee with glee—
The song of the thrush, and the boom of the bee,
The wild flowers’ fragrance, the breath of the rose,
And green woods that kiss the dark stream as it flows:
To scenes grand and gloomy my footsteps may stray,
Where terror frowns dreadful along the wild way,
But beauty for aye in this region shall dwell,
Farewell to thee, Rhewlas! sweet Rhewlas, farewell!

I returned to the inn, much pleased with my day’s entertainment, happy to find that my ancle was comparatively easy, and ordered a car to be ready on the following morning to convey me ten miles on the road to Dolgelly.

Rising early, I found no inconvenience from my ancle; and, after a good breakfast, took leave of my host, and his wife, of Martha Jones, and the Bull’s Head, all of whom appeared anxious to see me comfortably seated in the vehicle, and with kindest farewells, expressed a desire of speedily seeing me again—all excepting the Bull’s Head, poor thing, which being a dummy only looked a good bye; and taking every thing into consideration, he looked it very well.

The car in which I was bumped along the road, in every respect resembled those delightful conveyances that rattle the astonished traveller from Cork to Blarney. It is a sort of oval box, placed upon two wheels, with a door behind, and with good wedging will contain four persons; but being springless and cushionless, the passenger is jolted to his heart’s content, that is, if his heart has been set on jolting; and, without doubt, it is fine exercise for persons of sedentary habits, if by any chance, their bones happen to escape dislocation. My knapsack (my opposite, and only fellow passenger) and I, looked very black at each other, as we bobbed up and down, like a cockney grocer’s apprentice upon a high trotting horse; but I soon became resigned, and my knapsack having shifted its berth for the bottom of the vehicle, seemed to rest more comfortably than on the seat. Notwithstanding the inconvenience I suffered from this carriage, I could not help admiring the extreme beauty of the lake, as we pursued our course along its borders; sometimes, only catching a glimpse of it, through the trees that shaded its delightful margin. Its waters were smooth and motionless; not a ripple was visible upon its surface; the lofty mountains reflected in its breast gave a sombre tinge to the otherwise golden scene, and, as I looked into the clear depths of the shadows, I thought, how peacefully one shattered by the storms of life might sink beneath, and be at rest!

After passing Llanthyn, (an estate belonging to Sir W. W. Wynn, who claims the whole fishing of this beautiful piece of water, and has, by putting a quantity of pike therein, destroyed all the trout and gwynniad with which it once abounded), the scenery became wild, and cheerless, until we reached

THE VALE OF DRWSTYNRNT,

where, to my great satisfaction, the car stopped at the sign of the Welsh Prince, a distance of ten miles from Bala, and eight from Dolgelly. Being thoroughly tired with my ride, I thought I would endeavour to obtain the proper use of my limbs, and rest myself by walking the remainder of the journey. Dismissing the car, therefore, and strapping my knapsack to my shoulders, I once more took the road.

About a mile beyond the Welsh Prince, the valley becomes truly beautiful. Waving woods adorn the mountains upon either side. The Wnion here begins to be an important stream; and, though in its course towards Dolgelly it is swelled by numerous mountain tributaries into a broad river, the trees upon its banks form an impenetrable screen, which conceal it from the traveller, and its hoarse murmur, as it dashes over the rocks that vainly endeavour to intercept its way, alone remind him of its vicinity. At length, I arrived at a spot, where a road leads over a bridge to the opposite side of the river. Thinking this would be a proper place to see the Wnion to advantage, I advanced to the centre of the bridge. The effect is beautiful; hanging woods adorn the banks of the stream, lofty ash trees, (around the trunks of which the ivy winds itself in snakelike folds, feeding upon the tree that supports it), spread their proud heads above, and form a pleasing shade, while below the river roars, as it is precipitated beneath the arch in two large falls, that form a deep pool on the opposite side.

“It was in that pool,” said a voice at my shoulder, “that Hugh Evans first saw the fairy.” Upon turning round, I saw an old man, much bent with age, knitting hose.

“What fairy, my good man?” said I, “and who was Hugh Evans?”

“Ah! you are a stranger here, sir. Why, it’s a tale my grandfather used to tell me, of a lad, who worked with him in the fields yonder.”

HUGH EVANS, AND THE FAIRY.

Hugh was a handsome lad, and all the girls were mad for love of him; but he was a prudent youth, and would not notice any of them, for he thought as he could hardly earn enough to support himself, he had no chance of supporting others. Well, one day as he was returning from work, he leant over the bridge, where you are now standing, sir, and what should he see, but a beautiful young creature, bathing in the deep water there. Well, he knew it was a fairy, for he never had seen any thing half so beautiful before; and he couldn’t for the life of him take his eyes from her, though she was as naked (saving your presence) as when she was born. She had long black hair, streaming down her shoulders, as glossy as a crow’s wing, and the smallest feet, and hands, he ever beheld! and the beautiful fairy said to him, “Hugh, handsome Hugh, why did you come hither? but, since you are here, turn your head aside, till I get out of the stream, and then I’ll come and talk to you.” And Hugh did as he was bid, for he was too much in love to deny her any thing; and, before he could recover his surprise, there was the fairy, close by his side, in the dress of a neat country lass. And her snowy feet, and her raven locks, red lips, and sparkling eyes, made Hugh’s heart knock at his ribs, like a smith’s hammer on the anvil. So what does he do, but drop down upon his knees, and swore he was dying for love of the angel. “I’m no angel at all,” says she, “but a foolish body of a fairy, that has fallen in love with handsome Hugh, and, if you’ll consent to my wishes in one respect, I’ll be a fond wife to you all the days of your life.” Hugh was delighted to hear her talk, and he promised to do every thing she wished. “All I desire,” said she, “is that you will permit me to leave you every night at twelve o’clock for one hour, and never attempt to follow me, or ask where I have been. But, if you follow me, you will never see me again, and you will only have to thank your own folly and rashness for it.” Hugh promised faithfully, and the fairy provided him with money enough to buy a neat little cottage on the hill yonder, and to stock it with a cow, pigs, and poultry. He likewise bought ten acres of land, and every body wondered how Hugh Evans became so rich on a sudden, but they supposed it was his wife’s fortune, though they never could find out who she was. For many years they lived together, and she bore him two girls, both resembling the mother, and their comeliness was the talk of the country. Marriage had no power to destroy the beauty of the fairy’s form or face, for eternal youth and loveliness were part of her portion.

But Hugh got jealous of a neighbour, whom he used to invite to his house in the winter evenings, and he fancied that his wife paid him more attention than was necessary. Until that time, he never cared about her absence at midnight but the “green eyed monster;” whispered to him that she had other than honest motives, for absenting herself from home at that late hour. And one night, when his neighbour, Davie Jones, happened to be more animated than usual with the good woman his hostess, who was always desirous of making Hugh’s friends welcome, he gave her a kiss at parting that went to the heart of poor Hugh; and he determined to look after her that night when she left his bed, to discover if his suspicions were well founded. Accordingly, pretending to sleep, he watched his wife when she rose up. The first thing she did was to go to her children, whom she kissed, and by the light of the moon, which shone brightly through the casement, he saw her suddenly (without the aid of toilet labour) arrayed in a gossamer robe of rose coloured pink, through which her beautiful skin was dimly perceptible, and her exquisite form fully displayed to his astonished eyes; the right arm and breast were bare, while the drapery was secured upon the left shoulder, and at the waist with clasps of costly gems.

“Her black luxuriant ringlets, contrasted with her snowy neck, her dark eyes flashing with delight, and her red pouting lips,” said poor Hugh, “made me motionless with admiration, which was increased by seeing her leap, through the open casement! Terrified lest she should be dashed to pieces by the fall—filled with fury at her being thus decked out to meet her paramour, with desperate eagerness I darted out of the window in pursuit. The height was considerable. I caught a glimpse in my descent, of her fairy form as she reached the summit of the hill, and then all sense forsook me. When restored to consciousness, I found myself stretched upon my bed; both my legs broken by the fall, and my head sorely bruised. Upon asking for Lleucu, my wife, I was told she had never been seen since I beheld her. My friend Davie was attending me affectionately, bathing my temples with cold lotions; and my heart smote me for my suspicions. Night came, and, as the hour approached when Lleucu departed, I became restless and feverish, when a voice, which I knew to be Lleucu’s, entered my chamber; it sang as follows:

“Farewell Hugh, handsome Hugh,
Don’t forget thy poor Lleucu!
O’er thy limbs I spread a charm,
And to-morrow, free from harm,
To thine honest labour hie,
To support our progeny.
Oh, protect their tender years,
Bless my hopes and soothe my fears!
Farewell, Hugh, handsome Hugh,
Don’t forget thy poor Lleucu!”

“I would have given my life to have seen her again,” continued Hugh; “but I lost her for ever. The next morning, faithful to her promise, I was indeed perfectly free from pain; my limbs were as strong as at the moment when I sprang from the window; but my heart was broken.”

“May be, sir, you’d like to buy a pair of stockings or mittens,” said the old man, without pausing to notice the effect his tale had upon me, and pulling the articles out of his coat pocket as he spoke. I could not resist the appeal, and, giving him the price he demanded, I pursued my journey towards Dolgelly. Nearly the whole of this lovely valley is the property of Sir Robert Vaughan.

I was meditating upon the romantic tale of the old man, when suddenly a turn in the road and an opening in the dell revealed to my delighted eyes the celebrated mountain called Cader Idris.

Cader Idris, from the Bala Road

CADER IDRIS,

the loftiest mountain in Merionethshire, and the second in North Wales, is said to be 950 yards in perpendicular height from Dolgelly Green. Cader Idris literally means “Idris’s chair,” where he is supposed to have studied astrology; and Idris is a name attributed to Enoch, the founder of astronomy. Mr. Edward Jones, to whom the public are indebted for his learned and ingenious work, entitled “The Bardic Museum,” observes that “CÆr Idris implies the city of the learned:” and Mr. Rowland, in his “Mona Antiqua,” mentions a place in Anglesea called CÆr Idris, also BÔd Idris, or “Idris’s abode or mansion,” in Yale, Denbighshire, which still retains the name, as well as that of LlÊch Idris, or “the shelter of Idris,” a farm so called, at Trawsoynydd in Merionethshire, which also may imply the grave of Idris. Idris is supposed to have flourished in the third or fourth century, and his genealogy from an old manuscript, runs thus:—“Idris Gawr ab Gwyddno, ab Tibion, ab Cunedda Wledig.”

Snowdon and Cader Idris were formerly supposed to be the Parnassian hills of Wales, and none but good bards could claim so elevated a seat.

Idris, the champion or bard, invented the harp; or, if the Gomerian Britons brought that instrument into the country when they first inhabited the island, it seems to have been lost and forgotten; for Idris is said to have invented something similar; but it is probable he only made some improvement on the ancient harp, or perhaps his superior skill in performing on it might have gained him that reputation. From all that can be gathered from tradition, he was a learned man, an astrologer, and a bard; and it is likely that the summit of this mountain was chosen by him, to examine from thence the movements of the heavenly bodies, to write his inspired verses, or to frame laws for the government and benefit of his country.

The walk from this spot to Dolgelly is exceedingly beautiful; and as the tourist approaches the town before crossing the bridge which is flung over the river Mawddach, a sign of some importance attracts his attention upon the right: it runs thus:

R. PUGH,
Guide General
To the Waterfalls, Cader Idris,
And all the curious scenery in
The vicinity of Dolgelly.

N.B. Licenced to let saddled horses.

DOLGELLY,

or Dolgellen, the Dale of the Hazel, is the principal market town in Merionethshire, and the assizes are held here, alternately with Bala. The town hall, the most important building, is a neat stone edifice, erected in the year 1825, and cost £3000. It is built near the banks of the river Wnion, (pronounced Oonion) and the court room is fitted up with every necessary accommodation for the officers of justice. In the hall is a very fine portrait of Sir R. W. Vaughan, Bart., painted by Sir M. A. Shee, F.R.A.

Parliament House of Owen Glyndwr

Part of an old building, called “Cwrt PlÂs yn-y DrÊv,” or the Town-hall Court is still remaining, amongst a range of wretched hovels, at the back of the post office, in which a parliament was held by Owen Glyndwr. The county jail at the outskirts of the town is of a semicircular form, built of stone, and was erected in 1811, at an expense of £5000.

St. Mary’s Church is a neat limestone edifice, of Grecian architecture, with a handsome tower, and an expansive nave. In it is an ancient monument of an armed knight, who is represented in a suit of mail, helmet, a neck guard, a sword in his hand, and a dog at his feet; a lion passant gardant is on his shield, upon which is inscribed: “Hic jacet Mauric Filius Ynyr Vychan.” There is a modern one lately erected to the memory of Baron Richards.

The town is celebrated for a manufacture of coarse woollen cloths and flannels, called webs. The old town hall is used for various purposes; English church service is performed there every other Sunday; it is also used as a national school, and children are there taught to sing the church psalms. It is likewise known as the theatre, and a Mr. Glover (son of Mrs. Glover, of the London theatres) is the manager. It is kept open sometimes for two months successively; admittance to boxes 2s, pit 1s.

Those fond of fine scenery should ascend the mountain from the north side of the vale, to obtain the best view of the town, as it lies sheltered at the foot of the majestic Cader Idris, which rears its lofty shoulders in the clouds.

Clustering woods adorn the opposite range of mountains, as they slope in irregular masses westward to the ocean; and in the midst may be distinguished the residences of Mr. Reveley and Captain Anwyl.

The river beautifully meandering through the green meadows, the solemn quietude that prevails around, disturbed only by the sound of the church clock, marking the progress of the fleeting hours with lengthened tone, which, like the music of another world, sweeps through the enchanting vale, combine to render this a place where those not wedded to routs, masquerades, gambling and licentiousness, might wish to live and die.

Dolgelly contains several good inns, of which the most frequented are the Golden lion, the Angel and the Ship. Comfortable lodgings may likewise be obtained, at a cheap rate, by those who desire to remain in the neighbourhood for the purpose of making excursions to the falls, Kymmer Abbey, and Nannau Park, the fishing stations, Dol y Gamedd on the Avon, Llyn Cregenan, Llyn Gador, Llyn Geirw, Tal y llyn, &c. [176]

DOLUWCHEOGRYD,

the residence of Mr. Roland Williams, is delightfully situated on the side of a mountain rising from this vale. I have read of a man who made search through the world for true hospitality, and returned to his cell without finding it. It is certain that he never entered the abode of Mr. R. Williams, which is the habitation of unaffected kindness, unpresuming intelligence, and unostentatious hospitality—the retreat of peace, love and friendship, where the stranger is received with warmth and cordiality, his wants anxiously anticipated and administered to, where the cheerful glass is rendered doubly valuable by the accompaniment of a hearty welcome, and where the administering hands of the fair inmates render every species of generosity doubly dear to the favoured individual who is admitted into that happy sanctuary. The only feeling of regret I experienced while at Doluwcheogryd was occasioned by the necessity of leaving it so soon.

The tourist should not quit Dolgelly without visiting the waterfalls, which, after heavy rains, are very magnificent. As I was still suffering from the severe sprain, I was accommodated by Mr. Williams, who also obliged me with his company, with a very fine horse to carry me to the falls; and bold and sure-footed, he performed his duty nobly, in spite of crags, cliffs, hills and hollows.

Passing the house of Miss Madock, daughter of the late William Alexander Madock, Esq., we came to the cataract.

THE RHAIADR DU

is situated in the grounds belonging to this lady, called DÔl melynllyn. Here the torrent leaps from a height of sixty feet over precipitous rocks, and plunges with a violence that seems to shake the crags and trees around, into a deep pool, from which it proceeds adown the dingle, over black and broken fragments, to the river Mawddach. A footpath conducts the tourist to the bottom of the falls, from which, stepping upon some loose stones in the middle of the stream, he will obtain the best view of the cataract. A walk of about three miles brings him to the falls of the Mawddach and Pistyll y Cain, returning from which, he may visit Y Vanner, or Kymmer Abbey, founded in 1198, by Meredith and Griffith, lords of Merioneth, dedicated to St. Mary, and inhabited by monks of the Cistertian order. It is not now, however, worthy of the tourist’s attention. But Nannau Park, the seat of Sir Robert William Vaughan, will afford much pleasure to those who visit it. The grounds are thickly wooded, and the mansion is supposed to occupy the highest ground of any residence in Britain. The approach to it is five miles in length; it stands 702 feet above the level of the sea; and the park is celebrated for its venison. Previously to the year 1814, there stood an oak in this park which bore a name terrible to the ears of the peasantry: it was called

DERWEN CEUBREN YR ELLYLL,

which translated, means, “the hollow oak, the haunt of demons.” In this oak, it is said Owen Glyndwr immured the body of Howell Sele, the proprietor of this estate, who, while they were walking together, treacherously shot an arrow at the breast of Glyndwr, who, however, having armour beneath his doublet, fortunately received no hurt. The cause of this treachery is said to have been the indignation expressed by Owen at his kinsman’s refusal to join his cause to redress his country’s wrongs. Glyndwr forced his body into the hollow of this oak, most likely after having slain him, where, forty years after this event, a skeleton was discovered. The chieftain, after laying waste the mansion and domain of Sele, hastened to join his friends. Sir W. Scott has written a very beautiful poem upon this legend, which will be found in the fifth note to his sixth canto of Marmion, and is called the “spirit’s blasted tree.” In 1813, this monarch of the wood fell to the ground.

The country from Dolgelly to the mouth of the river is well worth a journey of three hundred miles to visit, even though there were no other objects worthy of notice in North Wales, and will amply compensate the most eager researcher after the sublime and beautiful.

At a turn of the coach road from a place called Te-gwyn, a splendid view of Cader Idris is obtained, particularly in the evening, when the mists arise from the numerous lakes in the vicinity, like volumes of smoke from a domain of fire, curling in fantastic forms around the mountain’s waist, leaving its summit stern and clear in an unclouded sky—like a proud giant surveying with disdain the dwarfish host of which he is the leader.

Thou mighty Cader, whose commanding head
Is alway canopied with winter’s snow,
Whose form is rent in many a chasm dread,
Adown whose sides the dashing torrents flow,
And in primeval majesty still throw
Their flakes of foam into the gulph below!
Mine eyes dwell on thy terrors, and my heart
Expands and trembles with a nameless glow!
Wildest of all the mountain kind thou art,
The rampart that protects old Cambria’s heart.

Land of the free! amid thy giant hills,
Whose regal heads appear to prop the skies,
Oh what a thrilling awe my bosom fills
While gazing on thy dark sublimities!
Mountains on mountains, peaks on peaks arise,
Like tents belonging to some Titan race,
Who choosing highest ground, nighest the God,
Again defy the thunderer, face to face,
From heights more vast than Alpine foot e’er trod,
And undismayed await his dreadful nod.

Another noble view attracts attention, at a place called Glan Mawddach—the broad arm of the sea, stretching for miles between the rugged mountains, which, shrouded in veils of silvery mist, fling their dark shadows into the depths of the water. Proceeding onwards, the seat of the late A. Wynne, Esq., called Athog, now the residence of Mr. Fowden, becomes conspicuous upon the south side of the mouth of the Mawddach, and beyond the extremity of the Bay Celylin point, and the church of which the Rev. J. Parry is rector. The bishop has the power of appointing a curate; but Mr. Parry retains the tithes to himself. Arriving at

BARMOUTH,

the coach stopped at the Cors-y-gedol arms; but I proceeded to the Commercial inn, where there is very good accommodation, and a good look-out seaward. A warm bath of sea water refreshed me; and by the star light I strolled upon the sands, which are very hard and pleasant to walk upon, while my repast was preparing at the inn. The night was calm and serene, and my mind naturally adapted itself to the surrounding scene. “The brave o’erhanging firmament—the majestical roof fretted with golden fire,” appeared to me far from being “a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours.” My soul took wing, and bounded from star to star, leaping the realms of space, and plunging into infinity, till wearied with its immeasurable flight, it resought its earthly tenement, and my body, which it left immoveable, as if transformed to marble, resumed its functions. The low moan of the ocean swam on my ear, like heavenly music. A light breeze brought with it delicious freshness; and, as I looked towards the land, all seemed as quiet as the abode of peace. The lights from the houses had a pleasing effect, as they streamed through the windows, row above row, under and upon the side of the overhanging cliffs.

I returned to “mine inn,” and my meal being despatched, retired to bed.