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Narrative of a residence in Ireland during the Summer of 1814, and that of 1815 (Author: Anne Plumptre)
entry 19
Departure from Ireland. — Passage to Holyhead. — The Rope-Bridge. — Custom-House Officers. — The Blind Harper. — Bog-Wood in the Isle
of Anglesea. — The Mona Passage. — Bangor Ferry. — Tediousness of the Welsh Postillions. — Fall of the Conway. — Lake of Ogwen. — Capel Kerrig. — Glyndyffis. — The beautiful Vale of Corwen. — Castle Dinas Bran. — Harper at Llangollen. — Anecdote respecting the Ladies of
Llangollen. — Stay at Gresford. — Lord Grosvenor's House at Eaton. — Return to London.
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Three days after my return from rambling about the county of Wicklow,
my residence in Ireland was concluded for that year; and I was to bid adieu
to a country where I had spent three months which will ever be included
among the pleasantest of my life. I should indeed be extremely wanting in
gratitude were I not to say, that wherever I went I experienced the most flattering reception, and received the most polite attentions, while at the same time
the beauties and wonders presented by nature afforded me the highest gratification.
It was about six in the evening when I embarked at the Pigeon-house, and
the next day at twelve I landed at Holyhead. A new scene was now opening
upon me. To every part of Wales I was a perfect stranger: but
"The shaggy tops of Mona high"
as they present themselves on approaching Holyhead, offer nothing interesting
to the eye; 'tis by the force of imagination alone that they become so. They
are naked barren rocks, not sufficiently towering to be sublime, nor combined
in any way with other objects so as to be rendered beautiful. The most striking
object to me in approaching the coast was the appearance of a rope-bridge, like
what I had recently seen at Carrick-a-Rede, and which I had supposed an unique
of its kind. Holyhead, or The Head, as I found it almost universally called on
both sides of the water, on the western coast of the ancient Mona, or the island
of Anglesea, is itself an island, separated from the main partly by a bay or
estuary of the sea, which runs a considerable way inland, and then by a narrow
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channel, over which there is a bridge: this island is again terminated by another island, or insulated rock, forming the most westerly point of the coast,
and over the chasm which separates the rock is the bridge in question. On the
rock stands the light-house. Perhaps the bridge had remained unobserved by
me, as the vessel does not pass very near the rock, had it not been pointed out
by one of my fellow-passengers, when looking through my glass I found it
very distinguishable. He told me at the same time that there was an idea of
throwing this aside, and replacing it by an iron bridge: — that was not done,
a year after; whether it has been done since, I know not.
I have in my Travels in France had occasion to say a word in favour of
those generally reviled beings, Custom-House Officers, and I must be indulged in
again pleading their cause here. As far as I have had any concern with them,
I never found them other than civil and reasonable. In the present instance
my packages were not even opened. The officer inquired what they contained; I answered, My clothes and a few books. He asked whether Irish printed books:
I replied, No, books that I had carried over for my amusement in travelling:
to which he said, Very well, he would not give me any further trouble, they
might be taken away. I observed one of the passengers extremely anxious about
a small cask of whiskey which he had on board the packet: whether he might
pass as easily at the Custom-house I cannot say. At the hotel I was much
pleased with a blind harper playing his sweet Welsh airs. To me these wild
unpolished instruments are far more delightful than the harp under all the refinements of modern fashion.
The remarks made on Holyhead and its vicinity will apply nearly to the
whole island. Were it not for the associations combined with this ancient theatre
of druidical superstition, the country would appear dull, dreary, and barren, till
the fine ridge of the Carnarvon mountains begin to show their dark summits,
when somewhat more than half way between Holyhead and Bangor-Ferry. In
ancient times it is to be supposed that the island was well wooded, since groves
of oak appear to have been inseparable from the druidical mysteries; now
scarcely is a tree to be seen, at least in such parts of the island as the high
road passes through; I cannot answer for any thing further. An account of
the Island of Anglesea, published in the year 1775, from a manuscript in the
library of Jesus-college, Oxford, intended as a supplement to Rowlands'
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Mona Antiqua Restaurata, mentions the low grounds on the western side of the
island as composed of a good brick turf, which furnishes fuel to the inhabitants. "In digging for this turf," the writer says, "they frequently meet with
large bodies of trees preserved entire, though several feet under ground; now
and then only they are found within a foot of the surface. How preserved so
long in this state of humidity is a problem hitherto unresolved, being supposed
to have been cut down by the Romans when they invaded the island. The
wood, however it has happened, is become hard, and black as ebony; the carpenters of the country split it into laths, it being found very durable, and well suited to such purposes." This describes exactly the bog-wood so much and so deservedly esteemed and admired in Ireland. It were worth investigating whether it is still to be found: if it is, an admirable accession would here be attained
to the other valuable productions which within a few years this island is
known to contain. Besides the rich treasures of ores which have been
found in the northern part, the Mona marbles, now coming somewhat into use,
are very beautiful. The green even approaches in beauty to the celebrated
verd antique of Italy. Fine specimens of these marbles wrought into furniture
may be seen at Mr. Bullock's in Tenterden-street. Yet perhaps found within
our own shores, they will never be held in equal estimation with those imported
from a distance: — such is the general propensity of mankind to disregard what is easily obtained.
Nothing can form a finer contrast than the naked shores on the Anglesea side
of the Mona Passage, and the fine ridge of mountains with the beautiful scenery
on the Carnarvon side. The light was just such as to show it in the highest
perfection, the day beginning to decline so as to throw a slight shade over the
mountains which increased their sublimity, yet not sufficient to prevent any object from being distinguishable. Above them all Snowdon reared its majestic
head. By the time that I had crossed the Mona Passage at Bangor-Ferry the
day was closed, and here I stopped for the night The situation of the inn is
one of the most beautiful imaginable, on a terrace at no great height above the
water, at the foot of lofty mountains, with sweet little plantations down to the
water side.
My destination now was to pay a short visit to some relations, three sisters,
living near Wrexham in Denbighshire, and the question was what route I
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should take. I was very much inclined to pursue the old road from London
to Holyhead, over Penman-maur; not that I had any idea, like the poor Welshman in the Spectator, of making a lover's leap of it, hut from a love of any stupendous object. However, after inquiries made at the inn, it appeared to me
that I should find the new mail-coach road upon the whole the most interesting, and on that I determined; nothing doubting, calculating by the rate of travelling to which we are accustomed in England, that I should pass the next
night, the distance being no more than sixty-five miles, under the roof of my
relations. The better to secure this point, I set out early from Bangor-Ferry; but I soon perceived that the rate of travelling in Wales was not to be estimated
upon the scale of the eastern parts of our island. The first stage, to Capel-Kerrig, a distance of seventeen miles, was accomplished in exactly four hours,
nor could all my rhetoric, though frequently employed, prevail on the driver for
one moment to alter the very gentle motion into which he had at first put his
cavalry. I could have thought many times in the course of this drive that I
was again in the county of Wicklow, so strong a resemblance is there between
the scenery of the one and the other. For a long way the road continues
through a fine dell, with stupendous rocks of slate on either side, and the river
Conway flowing through it. This dell commences at the celebrated slate quarries of Lady Penrhyn, near the city of Bangor, and continues to the great fall of the Conway at Llyn Ogwen. I know not the computed height that the river falls; but including the whole descent, which in several places is interrupted by
shelvings of the rocks, I should conceive it not less than three hundred feet.
It is indeed a magnificent object. By the side of it the road ascends, being
cut out of the slate rock, and guarded on the side of the cascade by a parapet.
On arriving at the head of the cascade, a lake is presented to the view occupying the breadth of the dell, which is here considerably expanded, still being bordered with abrupt rocks, though of a less height than in the former part. There
is just a sufficient space for the road between the lake and the rocks. It is a
spot of as complete solitude as can be imagined. Precisely here did we meet
the mail-coach; between such an object and the solitude in which it was seen
there did not appear the most remote connexion. Among these mountains are
many small tracts of bog exactly similar to the bogs of Ireland; and here, as in
them, was growing abundance of the rush called the cotton-plant.
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Capel-Kerrig is a little cluster of houses, scarcely to be called a village, but
in a most romantic situation in a complete dell inclosed with rocks, and behind them towering the majestic Snowdon. There is, however, an exceedingly
good inn. If in the former stage I could not by any entreaty prevail on my driver
to mend his pace; in the present, to Kernioge, the more I remonstrated the more
sluggishly did the son of Jehu, — or perhaps under such circumstances I am wrong
to apply that appellation to him, — the more sluggishly did he proceed; and I
believe we were nearly as long now going twelve miles, as in the former instance
seventeen; the driver constantly asserting that in such a hilly country it was
impossible to go faster. I was determined, however, to make the experiment,
and therefore positively refused him the accustomed largess, announcing that it
should be given to the next driver, in addition to what he might otherwise expect, if he acquitted himself more to my satisfaction. By this means it soon became apparent that it was not the steeds but their riders that had occasion for the
spur; and the proper one being applied, the desired effect, spite of the hilly country, was produced. I was very ready to make allowance for the hills, but I
had found hill and dale the same. Between Kernioge and Corwen is a most
striking spot, Glyndyffis. The road ascends for a considerable height by the
side of a deep dell, being cut, as at Llyn Ogwen, in the hard rock, guarded by
a parapet till it comes to an angle of the rock where four dells may be said to
meet, some being wooded, some bordered by naked rocks, and down one a fine
cascade pouring. Indeed there is something at once formidable and sublime
in looking down from the height to which the road is carried, on the steep precipice below, or rather confluence of precipices; and notwithstanding the ample
guard to the road, it is scarcely possible to divest oneself wholly of an awful
feeling that the carriage might be precipitated to the bottom. Seeing this road,
one can scarcely afterwards conceive any rock or mountain to exist, over which
by skill and industry a road may not be made.
And on turning the lofty angle of the rock, what a lovely scene is opened to
the view along the delicious vale of Corwen! Again and again in this day's
journey could I have fancied myself in the county of Wicklow, so much similarity is there in the general character of the scenery. The vale of Corwen,
though it has not been its fate to be so much celebrated as that of Llangollen,
is, in my opinion, its superior in beauty. Through it winds the river Dee, upon
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the bank of which stands the town of Corwen, the vale being continued to a
considerable distance beyond the town. The land is fertile in corn and pasture, well interspersed with wood, and every turn presents some fresh assemblage of objects to be admired. Quitting this vale, the eye is immediately attracted by a new object — a remarkable conic hill, with the ruins of Castle Dinas Bran
crowning its summit. This hill rises just above the town of Llangollen.
From the solemn funeral pace I had travelled the former part of the day,
it was so late before I arrived at Llangollen that I found it impossible to get
on to the end of my journey, fifteen miles further, that night; and here, therefore, I was obliged to stop. The name of Llangollen can never be mentioned
without the idea of the two hermitesses of the vale being immediately present
to the imagination. If curiosity induced a wish in me to visit their retreat, the
fear of being intrusive withheld me from making the attempt. I was afterwards told that I need not have been so scrupulous, that they are rather
pleased at finding their domain an object of attraction to strangers, only there are
some regulations to be observed. One of these gave occasion to a whimsical circumstance; — about the grounds are a number of inscriptions, which no one is
allowed to copy. A gentleman visiting the place was apprized of this by the
gardener; which, in the true spirit of Gay's fable of the Old Hen and the Cock, only made him the more desirous of possessing himself of some of them.
Good manners, however, withheld him from attempting to infringe the rule;
but quitting the grounds to take his departure, he observed an inscription on
the outside of the gate, and being now without the territories he thought his
honour no longer concerned; but that here he might gratify his curiosity: this
was the rather excited from the inscription being in Welsh, which he did not
understand. He accordingly wrote it down, and submitted it to the first person he met whom he thought likely to understand the language, requesting an
explanation. It was in truth the mountain in labour; the inscription meaning
nor more nor less than Please to shut the gate;
given in Welsh, as being more
intelligible than English to the people of the country, whom it principally
concerned.
In the inn at Llangollen I was again entertained by a harper, though I did
not think him so good a performer as that I had heard at Holyhead. Had I
then known an anecdote respecting him which I did not hear till afterwards, I
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should certainly have entered into conversation with him, as a character from
whom some amusement might have been derived. He had been once harper
to the ladies of Llangollen, but some difference arising between him and them
he was discharged from his employment. In speaking of this affair afterwards
to a gentleman, he said he intended to be even with them, for he would set up
two romantic ladies in opposition to them who should quite put them down.
Early the next morning I proceeded on my route, and arrived at the hospitable mansion of my relations at Gresford, by breakfast. The country hereabouts, if not so fine and romantic as some I had passed through, has yet many
beauties to offer. The church of Gresford is a fine old Gothic structure, such as
is rarely to be seen in a country village, Some of the minute carved work having
fallen to decay, it has been replaced by ornaments of cast iron, executed so
true to the pattern of the original work, and coloured so well to resemble it,
that I should never have been struck with the difference
; though, when pointed
out to me, I perceived that it was just distinguishable. The church-yard is full
of yew-trees, very fine and flourishing; one, however, infinitely surpassing all
the rest, far the largest tree of the kind I ever saw, exceeding considerably in
the girth of the trunk the old wreck which has been recorded at Glendaloch.
It must be of a very great age, yet it looked perfectly healthy and vigorous, not
bearing the least appearance of decay.
One of the mornings during my stay here was spent, through the politeness
of some friends of my friends, in going to see Lord Grosvenor's house at Eaton,
about seven miles off. There is certainly much to admire in it, yet could I
riot give it unqualified admiration. The Gothic style of building, unmixed and
uncorrupted, can never be modelled so as wholly to harmonize with the modern ideas of a house; and wherever the attempt therefore is made to introduce
it, in order to adapt it in any sort to the present taste, incongruities are suffered
to thrust themselves in, which assort ill with the general character of the architecture. Instead therefore of the true Gothic window, we have here the Gothic
mullions it is true, but occupied by fine sash panes of glass, which seem wholly
foreign to them, and are any thing but Gothic. What struck me besides, as in
bad taste, were the pillars and other ornaments of painted wood in various parts,
and under various forms, about the house. There is something very petty,
very inconsistent with Gothic grandeur, in such kind of ornaments; nothing but
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stone appears suited to this style of building, or something that would look so
like stone as to be scarcely distinguishable from it, as for instance the cast iron
ornaments mentioned just above,- coloured exactly to resemble the stone. Of
ornaments of this kind I shall soon have occasion again to speak. I thought
this pettiness particularly striking in the hall, where even more of grandeur is
expected than in any other part. This hall wants only stone pillars to be very
magnificent; it is handsomely paved with different British marbles. In the gravel walks about the grounds I picked up several pebbles which had so much the
appearance of coming from the sea-shore that I inquired whether this was the
case or not: I was answered that it was not, that the gravel came from a pit
belonging to Lord Grosvenor seven miles from the sea; no doubt, however, the
sea was there in former times. They are principally of calcareous breccia, clayslate, and silex.
After passing four days at Gresford most agreeably, among a very pleasant
society, I proceeded to London through Shrewsbury and Oxford, highly pleased
and gratified with my whole excursion.
COMPRISING A SECOND VISIT TO DUBLIN. — A TOUR ROUND OTHER PARTS OF THE COUNTY OF WICKLOW, AND A TOUR TO KILKENNY, CORK, THE LAKES OF KILLARNEY, LIMERICK, CASHEL, ETC. ETC.