“Clouds rest on the hills: spirits fly, and travellers fear.

“Where are our chiefs of old? Where our Kings of mighty name? The fields of their battle are silent: scarce their mossy tombs remain.”

Returning towards Llangollen by the old road near Chirk Castle, called Oswestry way, the Berwyn Mountains begin to raise their lofty summits. [47] These Mountains occupy the eastern side of Merionethshire, and branch into the counties of Denbigh and Montgomery. Their southern boundary is the river Tannant; their northern the Dee. Their length from north to south is about sixteen miles; their breadth from east to west varying from five to ten miles. [48] Their highest tops are Cader Fronwen, or the Whitebreast, and Cader Ferwyn. On the summit of the former a large quantity of stones, collected from a distance, and brought here with much labour and difficulty, are cast round a stone pillar, marking the burial-place of some chief, whose very name is now forgotten.

These Mountains, as I have before said, form the southern side of the vale of Llangollen; and forming a frontier barrier for this part of North Wales, they have been the scene of many a bloody contest, and on these hills the hardy sons of Cambria have successfully opposed the encroaching armies of their Saxon neighbours. I trust my readers will excuse me if I relate one of the most interesting events of that kind which took place on this part of the Berwyn Mountains, and within my prescribed limits.

Henry II. King of England, being exasperated by the repeated predatory incursions of the Welch, [49] and by the advantage they took of ravaging the English territories in his frequent absence, and finding that no treaties could bind them, resolved on his return from Normandy to lead an army against Wales; and having assembled a strong body of veteran troops, selected from all parts of his very extensive dominions in Normandy, Flanders, Anjou, Gascoine, and England, [50] and hearing of some daring inroads made by the North Wales men, he early in the year 1165, put himself at the head of this chosen army, and set forward for North Wales, resolving to destroy without mercy every living thing he could meet with. Having advanced to Croes Oswalt, now Oswestry, he encamped there, and sent forward a body of men to try the passes of the Dyke and Ceriog, who being met near Castell Crogen, as has been before stated, were there defeated, and buried in the Dyke.

It is probable that the victorious Welchmen were a party detached from the Welch army; for Owen Gwynedd, then Prince of Wales, having heard of the great preparations made by the King, had very prudently confederated all the power of the country, and had assembled his forces at Corwen, a very strong country in Edernion, and there awaited the King’s approach. He had with him, besides his brother Cadwalader, and all the power of North Wales, Prince Rhys, with those of South Wales, Owen Cyfeeliog and Madog Meredith, with the strength of Powis; in short, all the forces the Welch could muster. [51]

The King, finding the Welch so strong, and knowing their fickleness, stayed some time at Oswestry, in expectation that a confederacy so hastily formed would as suddenly dissolve; but finding them firm and determined in their adherence, and that his enemies were so near, he became desirous to bring on an engagement. He therefore moved towards the Dyke with his whole army, and pushed on a party to the Ceriog river, which washes the foot of the Berwyn; giving orders that the banks should be cleared of the woods, which at that time formed a complete jungle, to prevent his troops falling into the ambuscade of the enemy.

It would seem the Welch had taken the precaution to guard the passes of the river; for the King in person, in an attempt to get possession of a bridge, experienced one of those hair-breadth escapes which sometimes decide the fate of kingdoms: [52]—A Welch archer, having marked the personal exertions of the King, and fired with the hope of freeing his country, chose a place of concealment, from whence, watching his opportunity, he discharged an arrow with such deadly aim, that it must inevitably have slain the King, had not Hubert De St. Clair, Constable of Colchester, who was in close attendance, and whose name is deservedly recorded for his devotion to his monarch, seeing the danger, rushed into the course of the fatal shaft, and received it in his heart; thus terminating his attachment with his life.

Whilst Henry was thus employing his forces in clearing the banks of the Ceriog, a party of Welchmen, relying on their knowledge of the country, and prompted by patriotic zeal, attempted to surprise his vanguard, consisting chiefly of pikemen, and the flower of the King’s army. This brought on a very bloody engagement, although not general, which cost the lives of many brave men on both sides; but the attack having been commenced without any preconcerted plan, and merely from a sudden ebullition of desperate daring, Henry’s veterans were victorious, and making good the passage of the river, advanced up the Berwyn.

In the mean time, the Welch Princes had advanced with their army from Corwen, and had taken a strong position on the frontier ridge. A fieldwork and entrenchment are still visible on the Mountain, over Llangollen, and was probably the station of part of the Welch forces, under Owen Gwynedd and his allies. Henry, finding his formidable enemy thus advantageously posted on the crown of the hill, did not deem it prudent to attack him in this position, and therefore encamped his forces on the lower part of the Mountain. [55]

In this manner the two armies lay menacing each other; the Welch carefully improving every opportunity of annoyance, and from their lofty and advantageous situation watching every movement of the King’s forces. Henry used every means in his power to induce them to quit their camp, and attack him, but in vain: while the Welch, by means of their irregular adherents, cut off all supplies from the English, and reduced them to the greatest straits and distress; added to which, the rain now fell in torrents, and pouring down the sides of the Mountain, rendered the English station so soft and slippery that they were obliged to retreat, with great loss in men, horses, and warlike stores, leaving the Welch masters of the field.

The Welchmen, as might naturally be expected, exultingly celebrated this triumph; while Henry, baffled and disgraced, and with all his threats unperformed, gave way to rage, and added savage cruelty to his disgrace. He at this time held as hostages Rhys and Cadwallhon, the two sons of Owen Gwynedd; and also Cynric and Meredith, the two sons of Rhys Ap Gryffydh, of South Wales; as likewise the sons and daughters of other Welch Lords. [56] In the savage fierceness of his rage, he ordered the eyes of these innocent victims to be pulled out, and the ears of the young gentlewomen to be stuffed.From this digression, for which, as pointing out the places where these historical facts happened, I hope my readers will pardon me, I now return to the Oswestry old way, which runs near Chirk Castle.

Not more than sixty years ago, this used to be the public high road to Oswestry, although the capacious and excellent road which now skirts the Mountains’ base would almost induce one to think it impossible. A very respectable and old inhabitant of Llangollen informs me, that before the road was altered and improved, some of the family from Chirk Castle used to visit Llangollen once a year in the family coach. On the appointed day, which was generally known beforehand, all the inhabitants were on the alert; and no sooner was the rumble of the ponderous wheels heard on the stones, than young and old, sick and lame, poured out of their dwellings to see the wonderful phenomenon; and during the few hours of its stay in the town, it attracted as much attention as a show of wild beasts at a country fair. On its return to the Castle, the young men of the village contended for the honour of assisting it to get up the hill again; and this was the only vehicle of the kind seen once a year in Llangollen, where now the most splendid and elegant carriages, from the gig to the state-coach, roll along, amid these stupendous rocks and mountains, upon roads as smooth, as level, and as good, as any in the kingdom.

The Oswestry old way is not now much frequented, but it continues from Chirk Castle along the top of the Mountain. Many roads intersect it, but the old road is very distinguishable. By the side of the way, rise two copious springs, called Ffynnon Arthur.

From the eminence the view is most extensively delightful, and amply repays the trouble and fatigue of the walk up the Mountain. The curious Aqueduct of Pontcysyllte forms a very pleasing and prominent feature in the foreground of the landscape.

As you approach the descent on the side of the hill, the stone pedestal of a cross or pillar stands among the gorse on the left hand side of the road, but the shaft is not to be found. Trees, planted three in a clump, mark the road at short distances, and lead to the cultivated and inhabited part of the declivity. [60a] Proceeding to the extreme foot of the Mountain, on the junction of the Oswestry road stood, until these few months, another stone pillar, or cross [60b], called Croes y Beddau; and upon it was rudely cut “Oswestry Way.” This inscription is of more recent execution than the pillar, although it is also very antique.

I conjecture these stones were erected as land-marks, and guides to the traveller. An ancient way from this point proceeded to the river Dee, which was then crossed by a wooden bridge. On the north side of the river, nearly opposite the place where the wooden bridge stood, was another similar pillar, called Croes Gwen Hwyfr. It stood on the road to Wrexham, and has been removed only a few years. From Croes Gwen Hwyfr, an old road proceeds to Castell Dinas Bran, by the Llanddyn, once the residence of the Owens of Porkington, but now converted into a farm-house. Through that farm the road passed in a zigzag direction to Castell Dinas Bran, and the old road is still traceable, although in some places quite lost.

Before I attempt to give an account of the ancient castle, I must beg my reader’s attendance to the Aqueduct, which claimed notice in the view from the top of the Berwyn Mountains.