“Here let me still with simple Nature live,
My lowly field-flowers on her altar lay;
Enjoy the blessings that she meant to give,
And calmly pass my inoffensive day.”

The attraction of North Wales, by its romantic scenery, the antiquity of its language, and the well authenticated records of its desperate struggle for independence, renders every part of the Principality interesting, and perhaps none more so than the beautifully picturesque town and neighbourhood of Llangollen, which have deservedly excited the attention and admiration of a vast number of strangers and antiquarians. Nor have the expectations of its numerous visitors been disappointed; for, though the Alps may raise their towering summits to a greater height—may embosom in their dark recesses more ample lakes, and give rise to more magnificent rivers—yet even they cannot present a more pleasing variety of scenery, or more picturesque views, than those with which Llangollen is surrounded.

This small market town is on the border of North Wales, and is situated in that part of the county of Denbigh which adjoins Shropshire. It is on the south [2] bank of the river Dee, and the mail road from London to Holyhead passes through the town. The distance from London to Llangollen is about one hundred and ninety miles, and from the latter place to Holyhead seventy-seven miles.

The town consists of one long badly paved street, and a short cross one, together with some courts and alleys, called squares, but which at present ill deserve an appellation generally conveying to the mind an idea of neatness, if not of superiority, as they are for the most part formed with obscure mean-looking houses, built of the dark-coloured silicious stone procured from the rocky bed of the river, and from the surrounding hills. The houses are seldom more than two stories high, and have a very sombre appearance, except where the owners have had the good taste to avail themselves of the lime which is near at hand, in rough-casting or plastering the fronts. The difference of the appearance of the buildings thus finished is so advantageous that it is to be hoped the plan will be generally adopted.

Increase of population has here the effect which is usually attributed to it, viz. a manifest improvement in the town. The last census states the number of houses at 289, and of the population at 1287; but the inhabitants may at this time (A.D. 1827) be fairly estimated at 1500, and habitations in proportion. Among the newly-erected houses are some very neat buildings, at which private lodgings may be obtained, with every requisite accommodation.

Llangollen has a market on Saturday, and five fairs in the year, viz. on the last Friday in January, the 17th of March, the 31st of May, the 21st of August, and on the 22d of November; at which, horses, horned cattle, pigs, butter, cheese, &c. are sold. A market house once stood where the Hand Gardens now are, and is a convenience much wanted. Besides the London Mail to Holyhead, which passes through Llangollen every afternoon at five o’clock, and leaves the letter bags, which it takes up again about eight o’clock every morning, there are regular stage coaches passing to and from London and Holyhead every day. Light vans, for the conveyance of luggage, &c. pass twice a week from Salop. There are also waggon conveyances, through Wrexham, to Chester; and boats on a collateral branch of the Ellesmere Canal, which start at stated periods for Liverpool, &c.There are twelve licensed inns and public houses in this little town, all of them very respectable; and whether it is owing to superior management, or to the excellence of the water, which is the most pure imaginable, and flows abundantly in every part of the town, the ale brewed in Llangollen is in great and deserved repute all over the kingdom.

Two principal inns and hotels adorn the town—the Hand inn, which is in the centre, near the church; and the King’s Head, at the west end, near the bridge. The excellent accommodations afforded in both of them are not surpassed; they are under the best regulations, and abound with elegance and convenience. Post carriages and horses are kept at both houses, and the harp resounds in their halls. The Viceroys of the sister kingdom, as well as the nobility, seem to regard Llangollen as a favourite resting-place, in passing from one country to the other.

Mountains and hills enclose the town on every side. On the south, the Berwyn Mountains raise their lofty heads. On the north, Castell Dinas Bran, vulgarly called Crow Castle, seated on its conical summit, frowns over the town in ruined grandeur, and is backed with the vast and wonderful range of lime-stone, which forms a ridge stratum super stratum, and is called the Eglwyseg Rocks. A portion of these rocks, with the little tumulus-like hill of Pen y Coed, forms the eastern barrier. On the west, the lofty Gerant, [7] or Moel y Barbwr, with the Bwlch Coedd Herddyn, and other distant mountains, close the scene.

The sacred Dee, which here foams along its rocky bed, is crossed by a stone bridge at the western extremity of the town; the church stands in the centre; and at the east end is Plas Newydd, the residence of the two highly respected ladies whom Miss Seward has recorded in song.

Having thus given a brief sketch of Llangollen, embosomed as it is in a vale where all the beauties of nature seem to concentre, I shall proceed to retrace and fill up the outline of the picture, by classing under the name of each remarkable place its description, and the particulars of its history, quoting from and referring to authorities as I proceed; but as, from the varied scenery and the romantic views with which this neighbourhood abounds, an attempt to do justice to its several beauties would be vain, I shall abstain from endeavouring fully to describe what requires a more nervous hand than mine to paint; leaving to the reader’s taste full scope to select the scenes most congenial to his disposition, assuring him, that whether the dreary waste, over whose vast plains sterility and barrenness hold eternal sway; or the luxuriance of verdant meads and shady groves—the sombre haunts of secluded retirement; or the soul-inspiring gaiety of nature in her most lightsome mood—be most in unison with his frame of mind, here may be found solace for the melancholy, amusement for the gay, exercise for the naturalist, and food for the antiquarian and philosopher.

As a commencement of my proposed tour, I shall now beg my reader to accompany me on the north side of the Dee, to Clawdd Offa, or Offa’s Dyke, the ancient boundary of this part of the Principality.