There is a local interest attached to mountain scenery, arising not only from a natural concentration of grand and majestic objects, but also from a spirit of independence and ardent love of liberty with which the mountaineer, invariably, seems to be inspired.
The great deeds of Leonidas were done amidst the rocks and glens;—Switzerland displays her hatred of tyranny in an undying affection for the memory of Tell;—while from the chivalrous exploits of Glandwr, brandishing high the torch of liberty, a stream of light has issued, that seems to have poured its rays into the deepest recesses of his native glens.
The demi-anarchy of the feudal system occasioned the erection, in Gwynedd, of many stately castles, whose lonely ruins now adorn the petty kingdoms they once overawed. And in the violent struggles of the ancient Briton to preserve his wild home from Saxon intrusion, originated those yet more splendid palaces, that illustrate like monuments, or like medals, the history of those periods in which they were erected.
Notwithstanding the great power by which the Cambrians were overthrown, and the healing measures subsequently pursued to obtain a willing submission to their conquerors, the draught appears to have been imbittered by the introduction of some ingredient not easily detected by historical analysis; for, as a people, the ancient Britons are still totally distinct from the parent state in customs, manners, dress, in feelings, and in language. The tenacity with which they adhere to their primitive tongue, tends to a dissociation from the greater part of the empire, and contributes to the preservation, by intermarriages amongst themselves and otherwise, of a state of society peculiar and extraordinary as existing in the very bosom of the British isles.
The Isaurians were a small nation in the heart of the Roman empire; they dwelt among mountains; they saw civilization on every side, yet they rejected it with scorn, and, on occasion, found employment for the legions through several ages.
The Cambrians have not despised civilization, but have rather so engrafted it upon the ancient stem, that the variation in the tree is scarce perceptible. The fruit however proves fair and wholesome. A nation is produced, of such proverbial gentleness, that although the envious attribute it to the obscurity of their abode, the legislature must appreciate the moral value of subjects who are honest from a love of justice, and governed without expense.
To illustrate the scenery of a country possessing so large a portion of natural beauty, abounding in so many records of eminent persons and remarkable events, and occupied by a peasantry peaceful, innocent, and happy, presents a favourable opportunity for the production of a work both of amusement and interest. If these ends shall not have been happily attained, there is still one more valuable recommendation in reserve, that is, the moral tendency of the whole.
The inhabitants of North and South Wales are to be considered as quite distinct. They speak different dialects of the ancient language, are sprung from a different ancestorial stock, and, in the Southern half of the principality, the arts and manufactures of England are introduced and cultivated with the most entire success.
The selection and arrangement of the graphic illustrations, which precede each historic sketch, are influenced by two circumstances. First, a desire to include scenes intimately connected with the most interesting periods of local history, and, secondly, a wish to introduce a number of picturesque views sufficient to convey a distinct idea of the peculiar features of a country so romantic.
Notwithstanding the small cabinet size to which public convenience limits each delineation, truth and expression will uniformly be found associated, accompanied also by a clearness rarely attained in engravings executed on such a miniature scale.
Anglesea, the Mona of the Romans and the Mon [1] or Ultima Thule of its still more ancient occupants, is the most western county of North Wales. Its shores are washed on the north, west, and south by the waves of the Irish sea, while the Mænai strait insinuates itself between this shire and Caernarvon. Here the beautiful scenery associated with the name of Cambria is only to be enjoyed in the distant prospect, the level, unwooded surface of the island presenting nothing of pictorial or romantic interest. Only two eminences of any consequence, vary the monotony of the landscape, Holyhead Mountain and Parry’s Hill, the latter containing that wonderfully productive mine of copper, whence two families, now ennobled, have drawn the chief parts of their princely fortunes.
The consecrated groves of this district, suited to the deep and wild mysteries of the arch-druid, became extinct soon after the destruction of the order itself by the Romans, under Agricola; but the celebration of the savage festivals of this mysterious people—
“Rites of such strange potency
As done in open day, would dim the son,
Though throned in noontide brightness,”
are attested by the existence of numerous cromlechs, circles, and sacrificing stones, in every direction over the island.
The Cambrian Alps present a scene of great beauty, dignity, and sublimity, to the inhabitants of Anglesea. Emerging from the sea below Caenarvon Bay, and ascending gradually to their point of culmination in the peak of Snowdon, they descend again in shattered ridges towards the north, where the lofty Penmaen Mawr terminates the chain. No rivers of importance diversify the surface of this insulated county; but the banks of the Mænai strait are delightfully wooded and adorned with numerous seats and villas. The towns of Caernarvon and Beaumaris, as well as the city of Bangor, are agreeably seated on its opposing shores.
The union of Ireland with Great Britain rendered it an object of paramount importance to facilitate and expedite communication between the capitals of both kingdoms. The shortness and security of the voyage between Holyhead and Howth at once suggested the advantage of improving the line of road through North Wales to Shrewsbury, and so on to the metropolis of the united kingdom. In the year 1810 a select committee was appointed by the House of Commons, to inquire into the best mode of accomplishing this desirable end, and, amongst the valuable improvements recommended by them, none have given so remarkable and so dignified a character to their proceedings, as the suggestion of throwing a suspension bridge across the Mænai, a deep and rapid strait, where delay always attended transmission, and danger not unfrequently. Amongst the many melancholy tales of disasters that befel passengers in crossing Porthaethwy, [3] two possess a lamentable notoriety, from the number of souls then hurried in an instant to a watery grave. On the 5th of August, 1820, the ferry boat was overturned, containing twenty-six passengers, of which number but one escaped with life; and thirty-seven years before an event of increased horror happened here in a similar way, when sixty-nine poor beings perished, one only, as before, escaping. It is a singular fact that the name of the survivor in both instances was Hugh Williams. The Mænai, or “Narrow Water,” is about fifteen miles in length, its breadth varying from two miles to two hundred yards. Six ferry stations have been established on its banks since the reign of Henry the Eighth, who granted five of them to William Gifford. These stations passed subsequently into the possession of the Bulkeley family, and were afterwards dispersed amongst various owners. Porthaethwy, or Bangor Ferry, when the idea of constructing a bridge over the strait was first suggested, was found to be the property of Lady Erskine, from whom it was purchased at the expense of twenty-six thousand three hundred and ninety-four pounds, being thirty years purchase, according to an average of the annual receipts for a number of years preceding.
Various designs were presented, by Mr. Telford, for the adoption of the committee, from amongst which a suspension bridge was selected. This species of structure is now very generally preferred chiefly where centering is attended with difficulty and expense; but it is by no means a modern invention. It has long been known to the eastern countries: a Jihoola, or suspension bridge, was found amongst the inhabitants of the Himalä vales, on the river Touse, in the East Indies, by Mr. Frazer; and an ingenious and well executed work of this description made of bide-ropes, was discovered by Captain Hall, on the river Maypo in South America. The magnitude of the Mænai Bridge, and the boldness of the design render it still the most interesting and wonderful work of the kind in existence; and, although the bridge of Avignon possesses a span of fire hundred feet, and is also a truly admirable work, yet it is still inferior in the breadth of the principal span, the height above the water-level, and is constructed in a situation where there existed little difficulty in placing each bar, pin, and bolt, in their allotted berths.
The Mænai Bridge consists of one principal opening, the breadth of which, between the centres the supporting pyramids, is five hundred and sixty feet, in addition to which spacious waterway there are four arches of stone on the Anglesea site, and three on the Caernarvon, to complete the communication, each having a span of fifty feet, with a springing line sixty-five feet above the level of high water, spring tides. The whole breadth, of the channel, or rather length of the bridge, amounts to eight hundred and eighty feet, and the roadway is elevated one hundred feet above the surface of high water. The sea-end of each series of arches is terminated by a pyramid, rising fifty feet above the level of the roadway; over the summits of these pass sixteen supporting chains, from which a horizontal roadway is suspended by vertical iron rods, linked at their lower extremities with the sleepers of the roadway. The whole breadth of the roadway is divided into two carriage tracks, each twelve feet broad, and a footpath of four feet in breadth, in the intermediate space, each protected by guards ten inches in height and six in thickness. The carriage ways pass through arches constructed in the supporting pyramids, and, to prevent the possibility of a collision of vehicles, are continued separate to the land extremities of each series of arches.
In order to obtain a safe tenure for the main chains, the extreme links are enlarged and pierced with eyes, through which strong iron bolts are passed, constituting a species of framework, and the whole mass imbedded securely in the solid rock. The sixteen chains are formed into four lines of suspension, extending one thousand seven hundred and fourteen feet in length; five hundred and seventy-nine and a half of which form a catenary curve, between the pyramids, from which the roadway is suspended. A weight of six hundred and thirty-nine tons, nineteen hundred and nine pounds, is suspended between the pyramids, and the estimated weight of the iron work, from one extremity of the suspension chains to the other, amounts to two thousand one hundred and thirty tons, eighteen hundred being of wrought iron and only three hundred and thirty of cast. To give the iron work a fair bearing in their respective chambers, the following precaution was adopted: each bar and pin were wrapped in flannel, saturated with white lead and oil, and, to establish close and impenetrable joints, Borradaile’s patent felt was introduced between them, eight thousand superficial feet of which were consumed in this manner. The floor is composed of three strata of planks, the first three inches in thickness, the middle and the lowest two inches each, layers of patent felt being introduced between the planking strata. Twenty-four thousand seven hundred and ninety feet of felt were consumed in the roadway alone. Screens, or trellis-work of light bars protect each side, and permit the breezes to pass freely through; and a hand-rail of African oak directs and confines the hesitating steps of the foot passenger. The floor of the suspended part frequently assumes an arched appearance, which is not its original form, but arises from a contraction in the chains on the land side of the pyramids, the effect of which, being diffused equally over the chain of the suspended part, causes a temporary elevation of the roadway. It must be remarked that the sixteen main chains recline on saddles on the summits of the pyramids, without being attached to them, whereby every contraction or expansion which may occur on one side is communicated to the other, and over the whole, without any danger of rocking or disturbing the masonry.
In the construction of the stone arches the same care and scientific knowledge are displayed which characterize every part of this noble work. The arches on each side, adjacent to the main piers, are semicircular, the others are less segments gradually diminishing as they approach the land: the crowns continuing parallel to the roadway admit a handsome entablature and cornice. A beautiful marble, raised at Penmon in Anglesea, is employed in the mason work, and Aberdaw lime was used in bedding the blocks that were laid under water.
The first stone of this great work was laid, without ceremony, by W. A. Provis, Esq. on the 10th of August, 1820; it is a block of marble about three tons in weight, placed in the centre of the sea front of the main pier erected on Ynys-y-Moch. Messrs. Straphan and Hall contracted for the execution of the masonry.
On the 20th day of April, 1825, the first main chain was thrown across the strait, in presence of an immense concourse of spectators. At half flood, and about half past two o’clock, p.m. a raft, stationed near the Caernarvonshire coast, bearing a part of the chain intended to be raised, was freed from its moorings, and towed by four boats, down the current of the tide, to the centre of the strait between the pyramids or main piers: when the raft was placed in its proper position it was secured to buoys anchored in the channel for that purpose. This first operation occupied a space of twenty-five minutes. The end of the chain, hanging from the top of the pyramid on the Caernarvonshire side, was then bolted to one end of the chain laid upon the raft, while two powerful blocks were attached to the other end, for the purpose of raising it over the saddle of the Anglesea pier. This being completed, two capstans with twenty-four men at each, and two preventive capstans, employing an equal number of hands, were set to work. To ensure equability in the rotatory motion of the principal capstan, a fifer was at hand who continued to play a lively tune, to which the men stepped with regularity, having been previously trained to do so. At fifty minutes after four o’clock the bolt which completed the whole line of chain was fixed, so that from the first unmooring of the raft to the uniting of those portions of the chain, which have their extremities made fast in the shores of the two opposite counties, only two hours and twenty minutes were consumed. Upon the completion of this important step, upon the success of which all further advances entirely depended, the assembled crowd gave way to much enthusiastic expression of admiration: three of the workmen, in the ardour of the moment, had the great good fortune to succeed in walking across upon the upper surface of the chain, and a shoemaker from Bangor seated himself near the centre of the curve, and there drove the last sparable into one of those useful productions of his art, called clogs.
It is a tribute justly due to the scientific projector of this stupendous work, while we admire its beauty, also to acknowledge its utility and entire success; and posterity will yet learn, with gratification, that Mr. Telford has lived to see the offspring of his great genius attain an age of maturity, without diminution of strength or incipient decay. If, when he has placed his laurel crown upon its cushion he perceives some leaves are wanting, let him not regret to hear that a few were gathered by his “fidus Achates,” W. A. Provis: the winds have strewn a few more on the grave of Wilson, and Hazledine grasps the others that are missing with an iron hand.
The town of Beaumaris, now a fashionable watering place, containing a permanent population of two thousand four hundred and ninety-seven souls, appears to have originated in the circumstance of a castle having been erected here by Edward the First, in the year 1295. It subsequently became a place of commercial importance, was erected into a borough and constituted the shire-town; the first of these advantages it has been gradually stripped of by its enterprising little rivals, Bangor and Caernarvon. The situation is low, as the explanation of the name Beau marais, the beautiful marsh, indicates, but the coup de œil enjoyed from the marine parade, called the Green, as well as from Baron Hill, the seat of Sir R. B. Williams Bulkeley, Bart., is a composition both chaste and picturesquely beautiful:
“Hibernia’s eastern sea here Cambria laves,
And pours on either shore its restless waves,
While Mænai’s currents with its waters play,
Now roll to meet or refluent fill the bay,
And circling Priestholm shows its oval steep,
Emerging boldly from the briny deep.”Llwyd’s Beaumaris Bay.
One broad, handsome, and spacious avenue passing up the centre of the town, is finely terminated by the castle gate, an interesting contrast to the many gay, graceful, modern erections which decorate each side of the approach.
Edward the First caused three noble fortresses to be erected in North Wales, to curb the spirit of the stubborn Welsh; and chose Conway, Caernarvon, and Beaumaris for their sites. Of these, Caernarvon Castle is by far the most majestic and spacious pile: Conway enjoys the most picturesque position; while the interior of Beaumaris Castle strikingly suggests how perilous and uncertain must the tenure of human life have been in the feudal ages. The royal founder appointed Sir William Pickmore, a Gascon, to be constable of the castle and captain of the town, situations subsequently held, probably with emolument, but without conferring any military renown upon the possessors. In the reign of Henry the Seventh the garrison, which consisted of twenty-four men, was withdrawn, during the constableship of Sir Rowland Villeville. The Earl of Dorset being constable of the castle in 1642, his deputy, Thomas Chedle, furnished it with men and ammunition; but Thomas, the first Lord Bulkeley, succeeding in 1643, his son Colonel Thomas Bulkeley, with the gentlemen of Anglesea, held it for the king until the year 1648, when it surrendered upon honourable terms to General Mytton. The property of the castle is still in the crown, but the constableship was deservedly restored to the Bulkeley family, and is now vested in Sir Robert B. Williams Bulkeley, Bart., the representative of that ancient and noble house. Edward is supposed to have imbibed that Asiatic style, which pervades the architecture of his royal castles, during his expedition to the Holy Land.
The site of this fortress was adopted for a twofold purpose, both as being well adapted for defensive operations, and convenient for the landing of supplies, by means of a canal which communicated with the sea, a portion of which called “Llyn-y-Green” was till lately perceptible. An outer ballium of low but massive and embattled curtains is flanked by ten circular bastion towers: those which occupy the angles exceeding considerably in diameter all the intermediate ones.
The Postern gate opened to the west or land side, and was situated between two ponderous square towers, which were again flanked by turrets of dissimilar shape and of unequal dimensions. Several portcullises appear to have been lowered within the long arched-way of this entrance. Fronting the sea there was a second entrance, protected by two vast circular bastion towers, besides the additional security of successive portcullises. A massive square building overhangs this entrance on the left, and a long embattled curtain, extending to the right, formerly sheltered those employed on the canal or fosse, in supplying the garrison with stores. This last singular and irregular work is called “the Gunner’s Walk,” and several large rings, still firmly fixed in the masonry, very sufficiently show that here the supply barges of the garrison were anciently moored.
The envelope is separated from the keep or citadel by a broad intermural ambulatory, extending entirely round; a second entrance of fine proportion opens a communication with the inner court, beneath a spacious castellated building, the ground plan of which may yet be distinctly traced. This is a level area one hundred and ninety feet square, from the four corners of which small triangles are cut off by the enclosing wall. On the north-west side of the court, projecting from the curtain wall, stands a stately edifice, spiritedly and gracefully designed. The front consists of two stories; the upper adorned with five pointed windows of large dimensions, furnished with architraves of cut stone, and lighting the great council hall, which measures seventy feet in length: the basement is pierced by four smaller windows and the principal entrance door, while the whole is terminated by two beautiful round towers, with tapering bases, in the style of modern architectural pavilions. A ground plan precisely corresponding with that of the council hall may be traced amidst the ruins on the opposite side of the court, but how far their decorations resembled each other must continue to be matter of conjecture. To all these ancient castles a chapel is uniformly found attached, a circumstance which some historians attribute to the superstition, others, more charitably, to the piety of our ancestors. The little ecclesiastic edifice included within the walls of this castle rather argues the possession of the latter quality, from its unostentatious style and circumscribed dimensions. The walls and roof are still entire, the former decorated with pointed recesses, and the latter groined and supported by ribs springing from pilasters; while three lancet-windows, or rather loop-holes, at the eastern end, appear to have been the only means for the admission of light, that this modest little oratory ever possessed. From the thickness of the wall surrounding the inner court a gallery is gained, by means of which communication is preserved with every part of the citadel, and several square apertures, opening into recesses in the side walls of the gallery, are conjectured, by Grose the antiquarian, to have been the mouths of so many dungeons, yawning for their prey.
Part of the inner area is desecrated into a tennis court: desecrated, for a ruin is a sacred thing, rooted for ages in the soil, identified with it, and considered as a work of nature rather than of art. It is a deposit, of which the very proprietor is esteemed but the guardian, for the amusement, admiration, and instruction of posterity.