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HILL AND WALLEY,
HOURS IN ENGLAND AND WALES.
BY
CATHERINE SINCLAIR,
DAUGHTER OF THE LATE RIGHT HONOURABLE SIR JOHN SINCLAIR, BART.
AUTHORESS OF MODERN ACCOMPLISHMENTS, MODERN socIETY,
CHARLIE SEYMOUR, AND THE NURSERY PLUTARCH.
“Smack went the whip, round went the wheels.”
- CowPER.
jBedicated to the QIrabelier8’ Glútſ.
NEW - Y OR K :
ROBERT CARTER, 58 CANAL-STREET.
MDCCCXXXVIII,
PREF.A.C.E.,
Orator, as a matter of course, declares himself “unaccus-
tomed to public speaking,” while every author as regularly
protests his antipathy to printing, and throws whatever
blame may be apprehended, on those importunate friends
whose solicitations are at the service of all who can hold
a pen. The consequence is, that we daily read “Rough
Notes,” which evidently betray a laborious process of com-
position; “Slight Sketches,” finished with the minuteness
of miniature painting; and “Private Diaries,” in which
the author elaborately describes, for his own exclusive
benefit, the profession, pedigree, and personal appearance
of his most intimate friends, which there was but little
probability of his ever forgetting.
The following very miscellaneous journal, accordingly,
was written, like all travels, “merely for private circula-
tion,” and has been known during several years past, in a
form somewhat different, to several lenient critics, who
considered their time not unprofitably employed in follow-
ing the every-day incidents of a pleasant excursion, ac-
companied by the recollections and remarks which might
naturally occur in recalling the scenery of a beautiful and
interesting country, so full too of historical associations.
Coleridge maintained, that no one could properly ap-
preciate any scenery until he has verified first impressions
by traversing it three times; and in that one respect the
author feels competent to hazard an opinion of Wales,
having repeated her excursion there, with renewed enjoy-
ment, as frequently as the poet prescribed.
The journal forming the ground work of this volume
was written in the months of June, July, and August, 1833.
HILL AND VALLEY.
RECEIPT TO MAKE A TOUR.
Take your carriage—stuff it well—add four horses, or if not to be .
had, a pair may do. Select two or three agreeable friends—stir them f
up, and put them all into a good humour. Throw in a light wardrobe,
a large sketch-book, and a heavy purse. Keep your purse open at
both ends—oil your wheels—put them in rapid motion, and add as
many accidents and adventures as can be got. Boil up the whole with
plenty of enthusiasm—pour it out to cool in three large volumes—let
the scum run off till it be reduced to one—slit it up into chapters, and
then put it into the press.-Improved Family Receipt-Book, vol. 7th,
Fifty-nºnth edition. -
TO A SCOTCH COUSIN.
MY DEAR cousin,-Hearing that you are to be a close
prisoner all this summer, sofa-ridden in the drawing-
room, while we are rambling over every variety of
mountain and valley, nothing will compensate better
for our long separation, than to take you with me in
imagination, by writing according to our agreement
“seria mixta jocis,” as you classical scholars say, a
personal narrative of all our adventures, interspersed
with remarkable facts, interesting discoveries, and an-
cient traditions, all warranted new and original, to be
printed and composed by steam, forwarded to you in num-
bers, price one guinea each, and bound up with your Li-
;
I
2 III LL AND WALLE Y.
brary of Useful or Entertaining Knowledge. When late-
ly discussing the story of an indolent gentleman who first
retired from society because he had nothing to say, and
then died of having nothing to do, we agreed in opinion
that if change of scene, the usual prescription for all in-
definite diseases had been tried, he might have studied art
and nature, men and manners, killing time instead of fall-
ing a victim to ennui, while he gained health, amusement
and instruction. All malades imaginaires have discovered,
that few things can more infallibly cure weariness, dis-
content, ill-humour, and every lesser evil of life, than a ra-
pid progress through beautiful scenery, and amidst the
stir and bustle of rural occupations; while to those who
are actively disposed, it affords ample scope for the ener-
gies of mind and body, therefore a journey may be com-
pared to a quack medicine which suits every case.
Travellers may go farther and fare worse than in
Wales, so it is surprising that while many libraries boast
of possessing “England and the English,” or “Germany
and the Germans,” no author has yet favoured the world
with “Wales and the Welsh P’ Few countries, except
Spain and Italy, can compete with ancient Cambria for
the number and magnificence of her ruined fortresses, and
for the historical interest attached to each glen and moun-
tain throughout her whole extent, where every inch of
ground has been contested by heroes and warriors with
whose names we have been familiar from childhood.
There are said to be three sorts of insensible education
by which our minds are improved without any perceptible
effort. These are experience, conversation, and travel-
ling ; the last not the least in importance, as nature is a
large folio volume, full of variety and amusement, which
those who run may read, and where we learn without dif.
ficulty or weariness, poetry, history, and practical geogra-
phy. To the Christian mind, an inexhaustible fund of
HILL AND WALLEY. - 3
excellent theology is likewise opened, while “ the fields are
our study and nature our book.” Above and around, we
behold a thousand objects to demonstrate the analogy be-
tween natural and revealed religion, because on all sides,
wherever we go, hourly proofs are exhibited that the same
Divine Being has shown his infinite wisdom and goodness
equally in the books of Nature, of Providence, and of Re-
velation. Each of these may be contemplated with ad-
vantage to assist in perfectly understanding both the
others, for all are
printed large
On heav'n and earth in characters of light
And sounded in the ear by ev'ry wind.
Such pleasing emotions as are called forth by the beau-
ties of rich and varied scenery, can only be considered as
the poetry of religion; yet, observing that the ground
which was cursed for man’s sake, retains so much of
its original fertility, we adore the goodness of Him who
spares us such sources of exquisite and unforbidden enjoy-
ment, while it may be considered almost a moral obliga-
tion, as much as it is a pleasure, to converse with nature,
and to cultivate a taste for those embellishments which
are beneficently thrown around this world, our beautiful
habitation. -
Few use to the best advantage the numerous materials
of enjoyment scattered along their path, amongst which,
none seems more easy of access than an enlightened in-
terest in the wonders of creation ; and as our chief duty is
to seek after eternal happiness, it must be a duty also to
cultivate happiness now, and to feel answerable for spend-
ing every hour of this life as cheerfully as is consistent
with our highest welfare in the next.
It is singular to remark how much more patiently and
good-humouredly some persons bear the burden of life than
4 HILL AND WALLEY.
others, while to all it must inevitably be a scene of fre-
quent sorrow and of many trials. Worldly men groan
beneath the infliction of this world’s disappointments,
while pious Christians feel the weight of its temptations;
but in gazing at the flitting panorama during a journey,
not merely entertained by the perpetual variety, we are
also reminded that being “strangers and pilgrims on the
earth,” all are hastening forward to the presence of that
Great Being whose infinite power created what we see
and admire. In the lesser details of rural life, also,
Christians have continual cause to recollect our blessed
Saviour’s discourses, who extracted many striking lessons
of instruction and comfort from the daily incidents of
country occupation, and all whose illustrations continue
as applicable every where now, as they were then. The
Sower sowing his seed ;--the fishermen drawing their
nets;–the tares growing among wheat;-the labourers
waiting to be hired;—the harvest ripening for the sickle ;-
the sheep going astray ;—the hen gathering her chickens
under her wing, and the sun shining in his strength, are
all connected in our thoughts and meditations with Him
who “spake as never man spake.” While thus illustrat-
ing the deepest subjects by images derived from ordinary
incidents, how superior is the simple, majestic eloquence
of our Divine Redeemer, to the most brilliant efforts of
oratorical display; and how many millions of splendid ora-
tions and powerful speakers have perished into oblivion,
while these unadorned discourses reach every heart, and
suit every understanding.
In reading a book, my dear cousin, do you ever begin
with the preface 7 probably not, as the custom is by no
means a common one ; and in seeing the world also, it
appears unusual to commence with our own country,
though that should naturally be the avant propos in such
an undertaking. An English traveller on the Continent
IIILL AND WALLEY. - 5
feels like the geni in a fairy tale, who having once es-
caped from the bottle, could never afterwards be prevailed
on to confine his soaring spirit within such contracted
limits as those to which he originally submitted; and
therefore he should thoroughly study the carte du pays be-
fore making a final exit. Pope Clement XIV. turned his
back upon an Inverness-shire gentleman because he con-
fessed visiting Rome without having first seen the Fall of
Foyers; but his Holiness would probably never more have
shewn his face if all visitors at the Vatican had been as
rigidly cross-examined respecting their acquaintance with
the beauties of whatever vicinity they came from. Bri-
tish tourists are very generally inclined to wander from
pole to pole, rather than from Land’s End to John
O'Groat’s ; so that while Snowdon and Cader Idris remain
a perfect terra incognita to Englishmen, we read volumes
every day describing
Niagara’s foaming fall;
China’s everlasting wall; .
Hoary Hecla's wat'ry spires;
Raging Etna's rolling fires.
Being perfectly satisfied that we had thoroughly done
Scotland, you and I had long entertained so laudable a curi-
osity to investigate how our neighbours in Wales were ac-
commodated, and what prospects they enjoyed, that when
any friends set out in that direction, we wished it were
possible to send a pair of eyes and ears along with them.
I never felt more agreeably surprised, therefore, than when
A— one morning unexpectedly started the idea of es-
corting me on a grand tour in search of the picturesque,
to the most distant extremity of Glamorganshire, but not
quite so far as a certain charitable friend of ours gave out
by mistake, that we were going to New South Wales,
where certainly few people volunteer to travel, and the
I+
6 HILL AND VALLEY.
most respectable visitors generally remain from seven to
fourteen years, though that is the only country in the
world no tourist boasts of having seen.
The Spanish proverb, which says that “an agreeable
companion by the way is as good as a coach,” seems ne-
ver to contemplate such unbounded good fortune as mine
in securing both ; and as A had been all over our in-
tended course before, he now assisted me in a profound
research amongst road books, guides, gazetteers, and tour-
ists’ companions, so that we became in the mean time
“voyageurs autour de nos chambres,” and rehearsed our
whole journey on the hearth-rug, wishing it had been
Houssein’s carpet, to save all trouble in planning routes
and modes of conveyance. .
Shenstone remarks, that he never examined the map of
any country without considering how many amiable peo-
ple probably lived there, with whom it would be desirable
to become acquainted; but we, on the contrary, felt satis-
fied with knowing so many amiable people already, that
we resolved to pass over those in Wales, “alike unknowing
and unknown,” consequently we declined all letters of in-
troduction, intending to slip through the country incog.
- though not exactly to imitate a wealthy commoner and
his lady, who thought it indispensable to conceal their
real consequence, perhaps thinking that a deputation of
magistrates might wait on them, or the yeomanry be call-
ed out, and who adopted for a travelling name that of
“Count and Countess Milan.” Had we paid any visits,
I should certainly have adopted a rule which existed
among the bards of Wales, never to compose a single line
upon those whose society they entered, not even in their
praise, without special warrant from the parties concern-
ed; but as far as trees, high-roads, or houses can afford
entertainment, they may be considered public property.
An interval of four months occurred in our plans be-
HILL AND WALLEY e. 7
tween going and gone, which made me remember your im-
patient friend, who once complained, that whenever any
agreeable project came on the tapis, it was sure to be pro-
posed for newt year; I should have been glad to astonish
my travelling companion as the enterprising Ledyard did
the African Committee, when they asked how soon he
could set out to explore the Nile, and he promptly answer-
ed, “I shall start to-morrow morning.” *
We did however start at last, on the 20th of June 1833,
thus keeping with remarkable constancy to the hour and
day originally fixed, though it rained a perfect cascade ;
and our greatest comfort was to reflect how much better
the rivers and waterfalls would appear, after being so
abundantly replenished, while we resolved to look at the
sunny side of all things, if a sunny side were ever to be
seen again, and like Dr. Syntax,
To prose it here—to verse it there;
And picturesque it everywhere.
Our first serious accident occurred near Fushie Bridge,
where the newspaper, which had been opened only a mo-
ment before, damp from the press, and probably filled
with important intelligence, was suddenly blown out of
the carriage, and crushed beneath our wheels. We stop-
ped to pick up its mangled remains, which were so fright-
fully disfigured with mud, that it became necessary to
leave the worthy “Advertiser ‘’ prostrate on the road, to
be mercilessly trampled upon by both Whigs and Tories.
Thus we unwillingly sacrificed a whole day’s politics, not
to mention all the court dresses of a drawing-room. Six
columns filled with blond, tulle, gold lama, diamonds and
plumes, were irretrievably lost on this lamentable occa-
sion. We did not, however, feel the privation quite so
much as old Lady : would have done, who has so in-
satiable a taste for lace and feathers, that with inexhausti-
8 HILL AND WALLEY. .
3
ble patience she always has the whole costumes at a court
drawing-room read aloud to her. •
At Torsonce Inn we were told that the landlord assem
bled his household every evening for family prayers, and
that a Bible is placed in all the rooms—a praiseworthy
custom, very frequent on the road lately. How different are
the advantages enjoyed by students of Scripture now from
the early days of Coverdale and Wickliffe, when it was
thought perfectly marvellous that a Bible could be afforded to
each church, and devout persons were then obliged to gain
admission within the sacred walls if they wished to study
or consult the Divine Word. Few private families for a
long time afterwards were rich enough to possess one
single copy. Such privileges as are now universal should
be gratefully estimated ; but it is feared, that in many
cases those who are nearest to the means of grace are not
nearest to the end, while this very facility of obtaining the
Holy Scriptures leads to their being carelessly studied, or
only read as a matter of form. You know that an organ-
ist would fail to produce harmony on his instrument if he
merely looked at the notes meant to guide him, without
diligently practising on the instrument ; and thus the mere
possession of the Gospel is insufficient to produce harmony
or consistency of character, without a daily and hourly
exercise of its precepts. i
Proceeding onwards from Torsonce, we took a glimpse
near Selkirk of that extensive plain where the battle of
Philliphaugh was fought. The Marquis of Montrose, after
a previous succession of brilliant victories, there sustained
his first great reverse, which finally led to his being taken
prisoner, and executed. Do you remember the old coun-
tryman, who said, upon considering the vicissitudes of
human greatness, “every thing goes round like a cart
wheel !” -
There are seven brothers named Mitchell in Scotland,
HILL AND VALLEY. 9
who each keep separate inns in different parts of the coun-
try; and travellers should make a circuit on purpose to
visit them all, as they are singularly well managed. At
Selkirk, one of the family hangs out his sign ; two others
are at North and South Queensferry, but we did not trace
where the rest are stationed. Certainly not at Hawick,
where we resolved, upon consideration of public principles,
not to dine, as it is the most riotous and disorderly village
in Scotland ; still so infected with the lawlessness of old
border times, that during elections the town may be con-
sidered in a state of civil war, from which it had scarcely
yet subsided, after the last explosion of excitement.
At Hawick some immense new manufactories are in the
full progress of being built, and at first I hailed their ap-
pearance as affording symptoms of wealth and prosperity;
but those who have considered the subject more maturely
than either you or I, look upon them with disgust as mere
nurseries of misery and discontent. Undoubtedly, we
have only to observe the marked difference between the
aspect of a ploughman and a cotton spinner, to become
convinced how much better off the agriculturist is than the
manufacturer, while the more we compare their happiness
and respectability, the stronger seems the contrast. The
very youngest children had already acquired that pale
stucco-looking complexion, peculiar to mechanics, and so
different from the rosy, joyous exterior of the noisy little
youngsters in a country village, where nature gives health
and spirits as a compensation for the want of every other
luxury. A charitable individual, who went several years
ago to establish schools in some very remote sea-port,
used to mention, that observing the children at play from
morning till night, racing about the shore in a nearly am-
phibious state, sometimes in the water, sometimes on the
land, but always blooming with health and animation, it
caused momentary compunction to think of disturbing so
10 HILL AND VALLEY.
much happiness, even with the intention of promoting
their ultimate good, and the conviction became unavoid-
able, that to children, while they are children, “ignorance
is bliss.” No one could wish that “bliss’ to continue
above a very few years, and the moral discipline of infants
cannot commence too early ; yet I often watch young
animals bounding along the fields, in all the vigour and
joy of new existence, rejoicing in their strength, while
every movement denotes the buoyancy of natural spirits,
and then it seems a subject of allowable regret, that from
their very earliest years children are penned up in confine-
ment during the greater part of every day, either at mental
labour, if they belong to the higher ranks, or at bodily toil
if they be in the lower classes, while to them the gay and
careless hours of infancy are almost unknown. Youth is
the period at which that spring of health and cheerfulness
is given, which should support us through the wear and
tear of future exertions ; but the mind is forced like a
plant in a hothouse, to attain premature growth, and sel-
dom permitted to expand in its native strength. Infants
are all little men and women now, prattling two or three
languages from the very cradle, spelling over easy intro-
ductions to mineralogy and entomology, or performing
wonders in Latin themes, and in mental arithmetic. Lest
a moment should remain for reflection, observation, or any
species of natural enjoyment, a new fashion has been in-
troduced of teaching boys, during the short intervals of
study, to embroider in worsteds, which keeps them clean
and quiet at home, instead of letting their clothes and com-
plexions be injured by romping in the open air. Beauti-
ful specimens are shewn of their success in manufacturing
screens and footstools, while they seem all willing and hap-
py to remain sedentary like those children in the manu-
factories at Hawick; but though Achilles may be quoted
as a precedent for wielding the needle in an emergency,
HILL AND VALLEY. 11
if this custom become universal, we shall no longer be as
Bonaparte called the English, “a nation of shopkeepers,”
but more probably degenerate into a “nation of tailors.”
Several cottages in this neighbourhood looked miserably
poor and dilapidated. In one village that shall be name-
less, a window is visible consisting of an old hat, a stuff
petticoat, a cracked pane of glass, and a slate; but the
farm houses are exceedingly handsome, and the agricul-
ture very creditable, the vales of Tweed and Teviot being
both extremely rich, though the high grounds seem cold
and unproductive. It is related of a gentleman whose
estate overhangs the former valley, that once during the
month of December, when walking over his grounds, ac-
companied by some English visitors, the strangers Sud-
denly stopped with an exclamation of astonishment, to ob-
serve a crop of oats not yet removed off the ground. A
land-steward, who accompanied the party, being a patri-
otic Scotchman, dryly remarked that this seemed a tole-
rable crop, considering it was the second that year. “A
second crop of oats in the same season,” exclaimed the
Englishman with amazement, “how very remarkable ! that
alters the case entirely ſ” -
“But how can you tell such a falsehood
the proprietor angrily, “it is not true.” .
“Yes it is ſ” replied the steward triumphantly, “if you
recollect, Sir we did not get in our last year's crop till
January !” -
A few miles after leaving Hawick, our carriage sudden-
ly stopped beside an elegant britchska, decorated with the
lozenge and coronet of a dowager viscountess, who looked
in propria personae out of her window at us, evidently
amazed to encounter so unexpected an arrest on the high-
way, while we returned a corresponding glance of similar
bewilderment, till the postillions at length explained that
they wished to exchange her post-horses for our's, which
!” whispered
12 HILL AND WALLEY.
would save all the quadrupeds half their day’s work, by re-
turning each pair towards home. This judicious altera-
tion having been instantaneously effected, the unknown
peeress bestowed a smile on us, which did not extend to a
bow or a remark, and we passed on. .
It would have been well for us if one of the seven illus-
trious innkeepers of Scotland had ruled the roast at Moss-
paul, where a dinner was served up that beggars descrip-
tion. We probably “ne'er shall look upon it’s like again;”
so not to draw too deeply on your sympathy, pray call to
remembrance the most indifferent fare you ever saw, and
try to imagine something still worse. It is best, however,
to travel in the same spirit as the good old Prince of
Condé, who told a fastidious attendant, that, for his own
part, he always sent on before him during his journeys
“an avant courier who made every thing comfortable, and
that avant courier was, a spirit of contentment, and a con-
sciousness how little he merited half the blessings he en-
joyed.” -
Not a house became visible on the road of which A
had not some history to relate, nor even a toll-bar that he
did not name, so I often wished he could be published in
octavo for the benefit of all tourists, but many enterprising
travellers having already described the borders, in verse
as well as in prose, while you may possibly yourself have
explored that not-perfectly-inaccessible district, it may be
right here to omit a full, true, and particular history of
“the suters of Selkirk;”—a dissertation on that very
summary mode of exterminating criminals, commonly
called “Jedburgh justice ;”—another on Queen Mary’s
long ride and short visit in Liddesdale, where she went to
condole with Lord Bothwell on having been wounded by a
freebooter;-thoughts on seeing Hermitage Castle, where
the brave Sir Alexander Ramsay was cruelly starved to
death;-reflections on the bold Lady of Buccleugh’s gal-
HILL AND WALLEY. g 13
lant defence of Branxholm Castle against the English
army, illustrated with quotations from the Lay of the Last
Minstrel;-particulars of Buccleugh’s subsequent rescue
of his brave followers, and King James' paltry surrender
of him to Queen Elizabeth’s vengeance. These were
stormy times in past history, which seem now like imagi.
nary recollections, when we look at the undisturbed fer.
tility of the “debateable land,” where every sword is turned
into a ploughshare, while Sir James Graham and other
peaceable descendants of ungovernable ancestors, volunta-
rily exercise hospitality towards neighbours, who would
formerly have forced them to do so at the peril of their
lives.
In passing Johnny Armstrong’s tower, we looked with
interest at the spot where that celebrated freebooter, the
Robin Hood of Scotland, advanced from his now dilapida.
ted castle in all the pomp of border chivalry, leading six
and thirty brave followers to welcome the arrival in that
district of King James V., from whom he expected a
gracious reception; but the Scottish monarch disappointed
his hopes, sternly sentencing him, and all his suite, to be
hung upon the trees around. With his latest breath the
bold outlaw sung, while a rope was placed round his neck,
these words from an old ballad :
“I have ask’d grace at a graceless face,
But there's name for my men and me.”
So completely had we talked ourselves into old border
times, that it seemed like entering an enemy’s country
when crossing into England. Feeling quite ready to dine
at Carlisle, I thought of a ceremony established amongst
the hungry freebooters of Roxburghshire. When their
larders became empty, a pair of spurs were served up
on the dinner table, to shew that an invasion must be
instantly made among the well-fed barons and sirloins of
2
14 EIILL AND WALLEY.
English beef. Accordingly we laid siege to the Bush Inn
at Carlisle, where a numerous garrison of waiters surren-
dered at discretion. The bells rung a merry peal when
we took possession,-and a cruel massacre has probably
since taken place in the poultry yard, as we are in mo-
mentary expectation of the landlord and his myrmidons
with dinner.
:: ×: 3r :
HILL AND WALLEY, 15
CHAPTER II.
“Seeing is believing !”
SHAKSPEARE.
MY DEAR COUSIN, -It was truly remarked once, that
keeping a journal is the greatest evidence which can be
given of “dogged diligence;” and I should often feel dis-
posed to close my eyes that they might see nothing, rather
than be obliged to record on paper all we observe, were
it not for the pleasure of thinking that my letter will fur-
nish a telescope through which all the subjects of interest
along our route may become known to you.
Many great historical recollections are connected with
the citadel of Carlisle, rendering that fortress interesting
to contemplative minds. It was modelled in sugar once
for Frederick Prince of Wales, who felt indignant at not
being entrusted with the command of an army sent to reduce
the city, and who courageously bombardod it with sugar-
plums during supper, to the admiration of all his courtiers.
In the reign of King John, Carlisle underwent a siege, on
which occasion the women exhibited prodigies of valour,
and poured boiling water over the walls on the besiegers,
though they were not armed like Jenny Dennison with
porridge. The garrison on that occasion became reduced
to such extremity, that they ate dogs, horses, and rats.
Here we saw a Roman well, where very possibly Agricola
may have refreshed himself; and the room in which Queen
Mary lingered out some dismal years of her imprisonment
still stands where it was. How exceedingly indebted ce-
lebrated personages are to poets for embodying in verse all
the thoughts and feelings they ever had, or that they ever
16 HILL AND WALLEY.
ought to have had, under peculiar circumstances; and
certainly nothing can more touchingly appeal to our sym-
pathies than the melancholy language attributed by Burns
to Mary Stuart in her “Lament,” where, after expressing
in beautiful terms the anxious solicitude of a mother for
her child, she concludes with these desponding lines,
“Oh soon to me may summer sums
Nae mair light up the morn
Nae mair to me the autumn wind
Wave o'er the yellow corn.
But in the narrow house of death
Let winter round me rave;
And the next flow’rs that deck the spring
Bloom o'er my peaceful grave.”
Queen Mary is to this day tried and acquitted or con-
demned in the mind of every living person. We all con-
stitute ourselves judge and jury once in our lives, while
Tytler and Robertson appear as witnesses for or against
her, and their evidence is considered as carefully as if her
execution had only taken place yesterday; but whether
actually innocent or guilty, I have always admired the
spirit of our name-sake, Lord Sinclair. King James had
desired his courtiers to appear before him in mourning
after his royal mother's death, and that nobleman came in
a complete suit of armour; upon which the king looked
angrily at him, asking if he had not heard of the general
order. “Yes!” replied Lord Sinclair, making his coat of
mail ring through the court, “This is the proper mourning
for the queen of Scotland.”
We mounted the ramparts at Carlisle castle, and were
joined by a soldier, who civilly professed his willingness to
exhibit the lions, though he afterwards turned out to be a
complete stranger, in happy ignorance of every thing, and
endeavouring to compensate for want of information by
HILL AND WALLEY. 17
great complaisance. He agreed in all our remarks, con-
firmed all our conjectures, and pretended we were right in
guessing the names of several distant houses and hills ; so
that I could not but remember the story of a turnpike
keeper, when asked one day by a gentleman riding
through the gateway in great haste, whether he was going
right, and the man replied, without inquiring where he
wished to arrive, “Straight on, Sir.” Our military cice-
rone finally made a bow, expressive of his expectation that
we should bequeath a donation to compensate for his
valuable assistance, which of course we did. On this oc-
casion, however, the worthy private felt so pleased, that
he hazarded an opinion of his own respecting the date and
origin of some heraldic -insignia which ornamented the
old tower, and being completely mistaken, and somewhat
positive, he from that moment entirely forfeited A ’s
confidence and good opinion. The view from Carlisle cas-
tle is so fertile and extensive, that we might almost have
exclaimed on beholding it, as Prince Charles did when his
army was obliged to retreat, and he looked on the rich
plains stretching out beneath his eye, “Alas ! this is Eng-
land 1’’ The heads of several Scottish leaders were placed
in the year 1745 on the walls of this castle, and remained
there a ghastly spectacle for many years, till at length a
Highland servant-girl, disapproving of such an indignity
to her noble countrymen, rose up at night, stole them all
away, and buried them herself.
The jail at Carlisle is on so grand a scale, that it says
little for the morality of the people; and the cathedral is
a heavy, clumsy building, with the usual square tower at
one end, and except that at York, the largest window in
the kingdom, looking towards the east. This building was
founded in the reign of William Rufus, and having been
repaired by Queen Elizabeth, it still carries the arms of
both England and France, which we may almost regret
2%
18 HILL AND WALLEY.
that our sovereigns ever discontinued, as their claims to
the fleur-de-lis were fully better established than the right
to many peerages and baronetages assumed occasionally
yet, and for which neither estates nor patents can be
shewn. We lingered an additional day at Carlisle to hear
the cathedral service, which was very reverently and de-
voutly performed. While listening to the anthem, you
might almost fancy the instrument speaking, and realize
what it meant to say, which may generally be done in
attending to music when played with expression. We af.
terwards made a tour of the shops, where, as usual in
country towns, the most crowded and prosperous seemed
the bookseller's, in which our money and time were both
squandered very agreeably. Two streets leading north
and south in Carlisle are called English and Scotch Street,
which reminded us that we were still on the borders; and
I recollect in Northumberland once seeing a particularly
appropriate sign-post for such a locality, as the Scotch
side displayed a smiling portrait of Queen Mary, and on
the English reverse appeared a frightful daub of Queen
Elizabeth. Nothing remains now to tell of former hos-
tility between the two countries, except here and there a
few old border towers, which look as if they had been all
cast in the same mould, tall grey piles, roughly built, and
very thinly sprinkled with windows like mere port-holes,
small and far between.
The assizes were sitting while we remained at Carlisle,
and indeed during our subsequent progress everywhere
they happened to be going on, which, like all things in life,
had its advantages and drawbacks; but hearing so much
in various quarters about cases to be tried, we began at
last to fancy ourselves lawyers on circuit. One of the
grand jury called with an offer of escorting us to the courts,
which, however, we gratefully declined.
Our breakfast at the Bush Inn might have been suffi.
EIILL AND WALLEY, 19
ciently ample for the déjeuné at a wedding, as on this
occasion appeared a prodigious revival of hams and
tongues which had been tried by jury already at the
judge's table. The antiquary who preferred the second
day of a feast, would have been delighted here, and all
those who fix a late hour for either breakfasting or dining
at hotels, must make up their minds to a second-hand en-
tertainment. A cook was lately heard rejoicing over “a
lucky tongue’’ which had escaped being cut up on seven
different occasions, and the veteran should certainly have
reposed in peace on such hardly earned laurels, but being
sent on a forlorn hope to encounter a party of hungry
grouse-shooters, was never afterwards seen or heard of.
What we saw now had evidently a long course of useful-
ness in prospect.
At Carlisle the inhabitants manufacture an immense
number of hats, which are all immediately forwarded to
London, whence they frequently return in a few weeks,
and are sold to the very people who made them, as “Lon-
don hats ſ” Probably A 's, which bore in its crown
the date of “Bond Street,” originally sprung from the
banks of the Eden . -
Next morning we were disappointed to find that the
weather continued still no better than it should be, and
your feelings of sympathy may suffer less by at once learn-
ing the whole mortifying truth, that during several days
the rain never tired of persecuting us, and the sun seemed
finally lost or mislaid, so that we proposed at last to ad-
vertise for it. A barometer has been contrived in Ireland,
exhibiting the figure of a lady, who, at the approach of
bad weather, holds up an umbrella, in heavy rain she
opens it, and in settled fine weather uses it for a walking-
stick, which was precisely the plan pursued by A y
while we very soon considered ourselves completely water-
proof, as if we had been made of India rubber. The race
20 EIILL AND WALLEY.
of people who are addicted to flannel, fire-sides, boas, and
comforters, constantly catch cold, or rather, cold catches
them ; but those who venture to brave the enemy without
any such cowardly means of defence, generally conquer and
lead a life of freedom and independence ever afterwards.
All the fields near Carlisle were so completely ruined by
this wet season, that the hay seemed scarcely worth toss-
ing, and if horses are epicures they will hardly eat it.
The very cows looked disgusted. In England, the mode
of making hay differs entirely from that practised in Scot-
land, where we leave a crop on the ground until it be-
comes dried like chips, and most of the seed must in this
way be lost ; whereas here, the farmers make up their
stacks at once, whenever the fermentation is supposed to
be over, and therefore if it escape taking fire, which seems
not an improbable result in so hasty a way of managing
the business, their hay must certainly be more palatable
and nourishing for the animals intended to enjoy it, and
will less resemble a mouthful of hard oat cake, or consoli-
dated dust. In all our agricultural operations, the Scotch
farmers act as if they were accustomed to nine months of
summer certain, for grain stands so long uncut in their
fields, after becoming perfectly ripe, while it is shaken by
the high autumnal winds, and often entirely ruined by un-
timely rain.
We now pushed eagerly on for the lakes of Cumberland,
resolved, whether it were rain, hail, or sunshine, that we
should wait to see ourselves mirrored on their surface, and
take the opportunity of doing homage to “Mount Skid-
daw, in his natural sovereignty.”
Passing along, we enjoyed a beautiful drive through
“Squire Hassel’s park,” admiring, not only his place, but
also his good nature, in allowing all travellers a thorough-
fare here, in no part disfigured by either hedge, ditch, or
wall. We therefore skirted along the charming banks of
HILL AND WALLEY . . 21
the river Eamont, as if the sylvan scenery had been our
own, and proceeded through a glen belonging to the same
proprietor, which displayed tolerably bold and craggy
rocks for an English pass, resembling what would have
formed side scenes at the theatre. Here a patient look-
ing fisherman was knee-deep in the stream, leaving his
own element to drag the fish out of their’s, which is per-
haps considered a fair exchange. I was amused to hear
that a nervous gentleman, lately fishing for trout, unex-
pectedly hooked a large salmon, upon which he instantly
threw down his rod in a panic and ran off!
It would be superfluous to “strain description's bursting
cheeks” with a full, true, and particular account of the lakes,
when poets with both rhyme and reason, have exhausted
their powers in vainly attempting to give an adequate re-
presentation of so much beauty. The “mighty Helvellyn”
has already been a theme for two rival bards, Scott and
Wordsworth, while it still inspires more poetry than any
young beauty of chivalrous times, we may therefore be
contented with adopting the language addressed by a
German lover to his mistress, “If the lake could be
transformed into an inkstand, the mountains into paper ;
and if all the birds that hover on high were to subscribe
their wings for quills, it would still be insufficient to write
half the praise and admiration that are justly due.”
After following the meandering shores of Ullswater for
some time, our carriage drove up to the charming inn at
Paterdale, where we were obliged, for the present, to be
satisfied with taking a “supercilious glance” from the
window, at whatever could be seen, mistaking every cloud
for a mountain, and unable to gain one glimpse of the
lake. A numerous party of lawyers on circuit were
storm-staid in a room near us, whence we frequently
heard the loud professional laugh, characteristic of barris-
ters and dragoons. A happy couple, also, arrived here—-
22 HILL AND WALLEY.
the bride looking, as she alighted, like a bower of orange
flowers; but, though this was evidently a honeymooning
excursion, they were obliged to sip their honey within
doors, on account of the inveterate rain, which shewed no
consideration whatever in throwing a cloud over their
happiness.
One gentleman, apparently in a transport of weariness,
was announced into our room, though we had never met
him before, but, after a few civil preliminaries, he at
once opened the subject of his embassy. We had engaged
the only fresh horses on the establishment to carry our
carriage towards the south, and a pair of tired quadru-
peds, which arrived thence in the morning, were now
about to return in that direction ; therefore, he wished us
to make an exchange, not receiving the difference ; but it
was quite a sufficient gratification to oblige a party of
fellow-sufferers, who were anxious to escape towards a
drier climate, so we graciously complied with the very
skilful arrangement suggested.
During a short expedition among the highways and by-
ways of Paterdale, we discovered, near the unexplored
regions of the coach-house, a carriage with a remarkably
conspicuous coronet. It is a curious phenomenon in co-
ronets, that the older they are, the smaller they grow; and
seeing this so full-pledged and consequential-looking, we
rightly guessed that it must belong to some former cham-
pion of equality, who had recently “hid his head in a
coronet.” No rule seems more perfectly without excep-
tion, than, that those who are excessively fond of rank—
particularly arbitrary with their servants, or unusually
dogmatical in opinion—invariably profess democracy;
and we were amused in one respect, to see this so strongly
testified on the pannel before us. To those who study
heraldry, any traveller's name becomes as distinctly legible
on his carriage, as if it were ticketed on a morsel of tin
EIILL AND WALLEY. 28
beneath the window, like that of a hackney-coach proprie-
tor. There are generally no bounds to the interest felt by
strangers at an inn, to ascertain who live in the same
house with themselves ; and Lord would have been
the greatest curiosity at that time, which could have been
seen for nothing, but the lion unfortunately did not emerge
from his den. An old Nabob, who returned some years
ago from India, with an insatiable curiosity to see the
leading people in London, at last determined to learn by
heart in Debrett's peerage, all the heraldic insignia of
every noble family ; so that, after his task had been com-
pletely mastered, he used, on the day of every levee, to
station himself, in a favourable position near St. James's
palace, and enjoy the benefit of his laborious studies, by
reading on the procession of carriages, as if they had been
announced by a herald-king-at-arms, who were all the
personages he saw. I often wish, that those who give
buttons emblazoned with the family arms to livery servants,
would themselves wear the same, to assist in identifying
their name and rank.
On the road from Paterdale to Windermere, is one of
the steepest and most tedious hills I ever ascended. The
English are so proud of having mountains at all, that here
they take travellers over their highest summits ; and the
gates during our progress, were as numerous and trouble-
some as the locks of a canal. Troops of little children
flew to hold them open, after which they followed our car-
riage in the rain, splashed with mud over their very faces,
in eager expectation of a douceur for taking so much extra
trouble. One rosy, happy curly-headed boy, was exactly
the picturesque figure that Gainsborough would have put
in the fore-ground of a landscape ; and when we threw him
some halfpence, he laughed with perfect ecstacy, his mouth
expanding from ear to ear, till you would have almost ex-
pected it to meet behind. Our enemy the rain still con-
24 HILL AND WALLEY,
tinued ; and though we enlisted an additional pair of horses,
which had fortunately come in time, to draw the carriage
upwards, the post-boys stopped after advancing but a little
way, and presented an humble petition that I would walk
up the mountain side,-in compliance with which, we
abandoned the lazy luxury of driving, and took a bracing
promenade, contriving occasionally to see through drape-
ries of fog, the outline of an exquisite view which ought, in
brighter circumstances, to have rewarded our pilgrimage.
At Bowness, travellers had been detained by stress of
weather during ten days, without seeing a single hill top,
or enjoying one hour's excursion on Windermere ; there-
fore, we heard nothing but lamentations and complaints,
The sitting-rooms at this inn are nearly all level with the
garden, and have windows opening towards a gravel walk,
along which we had occasion to pass, towards our own
shelter, so that we saw our fellow-sufferers each in his
separate pen, gazing anxiously out, and counting the drops
as they ſell. Towards evening a tremendous thunder-
storm took place, and in such a scene, nothing could be
more sublime than to hear the loud artillery of heaven re-
sounding from mountain to mountain in solemn reverbe-
rations. Sound is carried on the glassy surface of a lake
with so remarkable a distinctness, that it can only be
conceived by those who have had occasion to observe that
noise is scarcely at all absorbed by water, and is therefore
borne along for miles without diminution. Several of the
loudest peals this evening cqualled perhaps in grandeur and
effect those mentioned by a French author as having once
“had the honour of being noticed by the Royal Society.”
The evident terror of all animals in such a storm, shows
what it would be natural for every living creature to feel
amidst a war of elements like this; and while so powerfully
reminded of our own helpless insignificance, it is little to
be wondered at, that many have been converted from
HILL AND WALLEY. 25
thoughtlessness and sin by the deep impression made upon
their minds when “The voice of the Lord is upon the wa-
ters, and the glory of God thundereth.” Philosophers who
lecture on meteorology, and understand the whole theory
of electrical clouds, lose all that awe and apprehension
with which an uninformed ear listens to the crashing thun-
derbolt, imagining the day of judgment to be at hand.
There is as little foundation for this fear as when savages
fancy an eclipse of the sun sent as a peculiar evidence of
Divine wrath ; but while learned men derive conceptions
of Almighty power which transcend all that ignorance
can even imagine, by studying the inconceivable magni-
tude and symmetry of the starry heavens, it is perhaps
desirable that the illiterate, who know comparatively
nothing of these greater wonders, should have something
obvious to their senses, acting as a medium by which their
minds can be elevated to the contemplation of infinite
power. -
The man who looks on glass,
On it may stay his eye,
Or if he pleaseth, through it pass,
And then the heaven espy.
Next morning made up in brilliancy for all the previous
days which had frowned upon us, for we were able to give
a Wordsworth-like glance of admiration and rapture at
the wide expanse and noble barriers of Windermere. A
main characteristic in all English scenery consists in its
perfect finish. The most scrutinizing eye can detect no
one object to destroy its harmony or excite any disagree.
able sensation. In Scotland there seems generally some
mixture of wildness, desolation, or poverty even in the
richest scenes, but here the peasantry display a consider.
able portion of that good taste which the rich only appear
elsewhere to possess, and their landscapes are, like their
- 3
26 HILL AND WAT,LEY,
dress, in complete symmetry, not exhibiting splendour in
one part and betraying meanness in another. A charm-
ing little ſleet of white-sailed boats added gaiety to the ro-
mantic wonders of Windermere, the mighty Helvellyn
had uncovered his head, and grouped so well with the less-
er hills around, that it made what artists call “a fine dis-
position of mountains,” while the flitting and broken re-
flections in the lake beneath, displayed as lovely a land-
scape in water colours as can well be imagined.
Rocks, clouds, and trees, in wild confusion run,
And glittering fragments of a broken sun.
Ullswater exhibits a shorter line than Windermere, and
has more grandeur near its upper end, but without the
same admixture of softer beauties. Derwentwater, where
we afterwards proceeded, is smaller and less graceful in
shape, as seen from a hill on the old approach by Amble-
side, but the view being enriched with the vale and town
of Keswick, and surrounded by endless tiers of scattered
hills and mountains, mostly detached from one another, is
the most complete scene in that succession of landscapes.
Without partiality, the Scotch lakes are nevertheless far
superior to all we saw here, the woods more varied, the
rocks more precipitous, and the hills bolder and more
Ossianic. It is allowed that there are different orders of
architecture in mountains as well as in castles, and the
pointed Gothic looks much more beautiful than the round
Saxon summits which prevail here. Only one island va-
ries the wide extent of Windermere, whereas three and
twenty can be counted on Loch Lomond, all beautifully
wooded with natural oak, birch and yew. This is a great
superiority over all the Swiss lakes also, amongst the
whole of which there are no islands, with the single excep-
tion of that one where the prisoner of Chillon was con-
fined. An old gentleman in this country once so far for-
HILL AND VALLEY. 27
got his geography as to exclaim that he would not for
worlds live upon an island; but the late Mr. Curwen was
not of that opinion, as his beautiful residence is built on
the solitary island of Windermere, where we saw a house
most charming to lionize, but dull beyond endurance for a
longer time. We should soon have been writing poetry,
dismal as Lord Byron's, had we been long imprisoned
there. The celebrated Bishop Watson possessed during
his life, a charming estate at Windermere, acquired in a
way that bears undoubted testimony to his amiable man-
ners, as two ci-devant pupils who died young, left him heir
to all their property. One of these bequests was Colgarth,
a beautiful place where most of his life was spent, and
most of his concise, but all-the-more-valuable, book was
written. In the present day many indifferent preachers
adopt a strange way of telling from their pulpits, what the
cleverest infidels have said against Divine truth, and of
then employing their own small talents in a meagre con-
futation. As an antidote to the danger of this plan, it
might be well if Christians would prepare to give a reason
for the hope that is in them by thoroughly studying Bishop
Watson's Apology for the Bible, and Leslie on Deism,
both so portable that the mind can easily retain their ar-
guments, and both suited to enlighten all who do not pre-
fer darkness to light, but for such no remedy lies within
the compass of human means. It is well known that not a
single individual has ever yet been found who remained
an infidel after fully studying Christian faith and doctrine,
but incalculable mischief may be done by those who pro-
mulgate among a mixed congregation, all the difficulties
and uncertainties that have already agitated deeply philo-
sophical minds, while few among those who are present
can follow that subtle chain of reasoning which leads to a
satisfactory conclusion. If the Bishop's autobiography
had only been suppressed, his light would have shone more
28 IIILL AND VALLEY.
brightly, but the writing of memoirs is a mania that levels
all distinctions, by bringing down great men to the ordi-
nary standard, and publicly exhibiting the little foibles and
frivolities formerly hid behind the curtain of domestic pri-
vacy. That entertaining custom is discontinued which
we read of in the Arabian Nights, that two strangers ne-
ver sat an hour together without verbally exchanging their
histories, but now every one tells through the printing
press what would formerly have enlivened only the fire-
side. In general, men would find it safest to “strut their
hour upon the stage,” and then sink into privacy without
being followed by public curiosity into the green-room, to
observe how they rehearsed their parts, for the sinking in
poetry, when we are minutely told how a celebrated man
“ate and drank, and coughed and spat,” reminds us by
the contrast between the first and second impressions, of
these two lines, which nearly connect the sublime with the
ridiculous,
Great Dalhousie, god of war,
Lieutenant-Colonel to the Earl of Mar.
:k × :k :k $: $:
HILL AND YALLFY = 29
CHAPTER III.
“And when pleasure begins to grow dull in the east,
We may order our wings, and be off to the west.”
MooRE.
My DEAR cousin,_-It always casts a shade of melan-
choly over our brightest hours to think how rapidly they
are passing away, and how soon even memory itself must
fail to recal those vivid impressions of delight with
which I can now look back upon all we have seen lately.
Though it would be as easy to stop a sunbeam in its
course, as to prolong the gay novelty of feeling with which
such scenery as we visited to-day is first admired, yet
some part of my enjoyment may be prolonged by impart-
ing it to you, and the regret with which I am now prepar-
ing to depart, should remind us that everywhere in this
world we are travelling with ceaseless speed from all that
is seen and temporal, to that world which is unseen and
eternal, so that the beauties of rural landscape are only
like shifting scenes on a stage, compared with the bound-
less and permanent glories of a great hereafter.
Mr. Bolton, who died lately at Bowness, has bequeathed
funds for the erection of a magnificent charity school,
which is rising up here like Aladdin’s palace, on so splen-
did a scale that I supposed it was a handsome new hotel
in progress. Boys belonging to the inferior ranks of life
must become sadly unfit for enduring the lowly roof and
humble aspect of their parents’ homes, when accustomed
to the spacious proportions and brilliantly lighted apart-
ments of such a “pauper palace” as this. Except for
Ostentation, half a dozen small school-rooms would have
done infinitely more real good, superintended by a master
3%
30 IIILL AND WALLEY,
“passing rich on £40 a-year,” and attended by scholars
taught to wait upon themselves, instead of being brought
up like gentlemen’s sons, without any menial labour im-
posed on them, and having nothing to do but learn a few
lessons, and parade slowly in regular array every morning
for exercise, escorted by masters and ushers. We may
constantly see in the neigbourhood of these great chari-
table institutions for young people, a line of boys nearly a
mile long, wearing uniform costumes, and slowly advancing,
with indolent steps, along the road, being in fact a daily
repeated procession in honour of some deceased shop-
keeper who died with more money than relations. No
wonder that discontent and insubordination arise in after
life, when young men become reduced from all the ease
and splendour of a wealthy hospital, to their original level,
beneath a thatched roof, and on a clay floor.
Near the village of Bowness are some of the most per-
fect cottages that can be imagined, each of which is a poem
in itself; and I stood transfixed with admiration before
their gates, wishing we could have hung up a cage for
ourselves there during the summer. Far from being sur-
prised at the number of villas scattered about Windermere,
my only wonder is that there are not more. Young peo-
ple indulging a romantic imagination have been sometimes
accused of wasting time by building castles in the air, but
in general they are much greater architects of cottages;
and certainly if any one were disposed to die of envy, it
would be in looking at the very delightful little retreats
which ornament the lakes of Cumberland. Persons who
inhabit immense overgrown houses, and enjoy an unli-
mited income, unless they seek anxiously for resources of
interest and occupation, might often lead much the same
passive existence as pensioners in a great hospital, sitting
at home most of the day, wearying first for luncheon and
then for dinner. Every wish anticipated, and every lux-
HILL AND VALLEY. 31
ury provided by the care of others, food, clothing, amuse-
ment, and variety all at command, life becomes one unin-
terrupted holiday; and an almost insurmountable difficulty
arises in such a life of leisure to find interesting employ-
ment, or to fix on any object affording sufficient stimulus
to induce exertion. The flowers at a fine-place are plant-
ed and watered, without having their value enhanced by
being the result of your own care and skill; every table
and cabinet has filled its allotted station for ages without
being displaced; and the trees which have grown around
during centuries past, will continue to stand during cen-
turies after those who call them theirs are gathered to
the dust. All seems so vast and beyond manageable
compass in a great place, that it would sometimes
be more cheerful to settle at the porter’s lodge, with its
smiling little garden, than to sweep along a magnificent
approach, and pass a lifetime, as those must do, who have
no object in pursuit, “stretch'd on the rack of a too easy
chair,” amidst polished floors and gilded ceilings, and im-
measurable mirrors, with nothing to look at but a boundless
park and a few distant herds of almost invisible deer, the
chief business of life, conversation, and the only subject
one another. Gentlemen often fly from the luxury of such a
home, to seek for change amidst the temporary discomforts
of a yacht or a shooting box, while ladies obtain occasional
relief in artificial poverty at a watering-place, finding that
unaccustomed privations give the zest of novelty after-
wards to the splendid sameness of home, where too often
joy falls asleep in a surfeit of ease and abundance. Even
royal personages in old times, seem often, like Haroun
Alraschid, to have found their greatest amusement in wan-
dering about incog., and the most interesting accounts
we read of monarchs are told when they came out in
disguise like “The goodman of Ballengeich,” or Il Bonde-
cani. Few situations in life can be more pitiably tedious
32 HILL AND WALLEY.
than the existence of a queen-bee in a hive, with her cell
larger than all the others, which she is never allowed to
leave, so that, while the rabble fly from flower to flower,
she remains in stately magnificence at home ; and though
it is necessary that there should be pre-eminence and
grandeur in the world, those on whom it is imposed are
less to be envied than ordinary observers imagine, as they
seem often obliged to sacrifice natural pleasures for the dull
glare of artificial happiness. Even that necessity imposed
by a limited income to relinquish some indulgences in
order to procure others, adds a zest to whatever may be
actually obtained ; and many amidst the glitter of life,
with not a wish ungratified, feeling satiated with pleasure,
might learn to estimate how great was the wisdom of
Solomon in wishing for “neither poverty nor riches.”
No one performs a tour of the Lakes without hearing
the tragical story which took place in 1804, connected
with Mary of Buttermere, the innkeeper's beautiful daugh-
ter, who rejected a host of admirers, but was at last pre-
vailed on to marry a handsome stranger travelling in mag-
nificent style, and professing to be the Honourable Augus-
tus H . Not long afterwards, it turned out that he
was a notorious felon in disguise, named Hadfield, who
carried on depredations in the neighbourhood with impu-
nity, so he was taken and executed at Carlisle. This ap-
peared a sad contrast to the comedy in real life, which
began on a similar plan, about the same time, when the
Marquis of E , disguised as a farm-servant, married
a rustic maiden, and then astonished her with the sight of
Burleigh, and with the announcement that she was its
mistress. Both ladies have become the subject of many a
poet’s pen since, as a warning or an example to village
beauties; but since actions are commonly estimated by
their results, poor Mary of Buttermere scarcely meets with
so much pity as her beauty and misfortunes merited.
HILL AND WALLEY - 33
Part of our first stage after leaving the Lakes, led us
through a singularly desolate, unprepossessing scene, but
travellers must taste the pudding as well as the plums.
Here large, coarse, awkward-looking hills seemed to be el-
bowing each other out of our way, while “Shap shook high
his forehead bare.” The inn at Kendal must delight all
travellers, and we were captivated with the old landlady,
who is precisely that sort of bustling, active, important
personage usually represented on the stage, with a lofty
cap of very antique architecture, a large bunch of keys,
and a very clean apron. The house is of ancient date,
having seen better days when the residence of some distin-
guished family, and it is decorated with old-fashioned cup-
boards, containing a perfect museum of foreign china.
Here is also the handsomest collection of richly carved oak
that I ever saw anywhere. Our hostess said that she had
more of it than could be used, in a cellar below, but every
chair and tea-cup deserves a separate page of description.
In one room stood an invaluable old bedstead, with repre-
sentations of fruit and figures carved in full relief, the
whole being as massy as a pulpit, and looking so very an-
cient and venerable, that I could not but think how many
persons had probably died there during all the years it has
lasted. A really beautiful portrait was hung in one room
representing the landlady’s daughter who died at seventeen,
of consumption; and though her whole mournful history is
but too common, we were much interested in hearing the par-
ticulars from our good hostess herself, who seemed to find
comfort in speaking upon the subject. Where grief is great,
talking of it, if that be possible, becomes a sort of safety-
valve to moderate the pressure of extreme sorrow. When
persons are in any recent affliction, therefore, as it is im-
possible for either party while together to think of any-
thing else, it is best on most occasions, at least to ap-
34 HILL AND WALLEY.
proach the subject, and see whether any consolation can
be suggested, where much is required.
— the grief that does not speak
Whispers the o'er-fraught heart and bids it break.
When the waiter at Kendal discovered that we came from
Scotland, he thought it impossible to produce too many
sweetmeats at breakfast, and brought in a large crystal
dish of West India preserves, cucumbers and limes swim-
ming in an ocean of syrup. Most poor people’s children
in this part of the country, have treacle spread on their
bread for breakfast, and a singular custom prevails at some
merry-makings among the villagers. Various pieces of
money are mixed up in a large basin of treacle, and after
they have been thoroughly concealed, children are allowed
to dip their faces in, trying to catch the prizes with their
teeth. The mask which then gathers on the skin hardens
immediately on being exposed to the air, so that their fea-
tures become quite immoveable and their jaws literally
locked. This seems rather a less agreeable pastime than
that of the young people in Scotland, who dive headlong
into a tub of water for apples, as Burns describes in his
Hallowe'en.
Proceeding onwards, near Milnthorpe we observed a
wide arm of the sea which is fordable at low water, and
might probably be embanked by some enterprising specu-
lator like Mr. Malcolm in Argyleshire, who redeemed 3000
acres at one place, from the ocean. The Humane Society
should give medals to enterprising persons who recover
drowned lands from the sea. Whole estates are gained in
that way now, and it would be no bad speculation to
take an improveable lease of this bay immediately. The
most wonderful line of road I ever passed over, was made
upon a similar plan in the north, where a mound three
quarters of a mile long, passes through Fleet Bay, with
HILL AND WALLEY. 35
the sea kept on one side, and only a small arch at the end,
to let a portion of water through when it cannot be entire-
ly controlled. I was glad on this occasion, that our route
did not lie along the shore near Milnthorpe, since the tide
there has occasionally risen up so rapidly as to overwhelm
unwary travellers, being somewhat like that in the Bay of
Fundy, which sweeps in with one prodigious wave, leaving
no time to evade its progress. -
We continued during several stages passing over a not
very distinguished country, which partook more of the
useful than the ornamental, being but sparingly adorned
with trees and very abundant in grain. The North of
England, and the South of Scotland meet in so flat, bare,
and ugly a scene, that tourists travelling through those
counties for the first time, must imagine they have taken
a final leave of all beauty; but the two kingdoms show
their worst faces to each other, and if all the buried forests
here could be reproduced, how greatly the scene might be
altered, for in this part of England, as well as in the
Highlands, large roots and trunks of trees are constantly
dug up among the morasses, showing noble remains of bet-
ter times. The only exceptions to our uninteresting ad-
vance were, the views we at last obtained of Lancaster,
where the fine old castle is now degraded into a jail; but
it puts a good face on the matter, and though not in the
best company, still looks exceedingly majestic, with a
beautiful back-ground displaying the fine bay and a hydra-
headed range of mountains. * - -
Preston follows next, so hideous, dull, and ungainly a
town, that it would be no great loss to travellers, whatever
it might be to the inhabitants, if an earthquake shook the
houses down. Not a feature is to be seen throughout its
whole extent, except eight or nine windmills, and about twen-
ty tall chimneys like the funnels of a steam-boat, vomiting
columns of smoke. The houses are built in a shabby-gen-
36 HILL AND VALLEY.
teel school of architecture, and the only tolerable cottage we
perceived on the road, was built in an old quarry, looking
very much as if it had accidentally fallen into a cracked
punch bowl. The Vale of Ribble alone qualifies by its
fertility, the general ugliness of this country. A very
sportsman-like landlord at Preston, who probably thought
we must be impatient to lose sight of such a place, Sup-
plied horses like high-mettled racers, with which we drove
on as if Chifney himself had been riding them. --
Our next step was to Liverpool, where the first attempt
at procuring accommodation became a failure, as we were
shown into the “worst inn’s worst room,” with no window
except a borrowed light from the passage, and the air im-
pregnated by a powerful smell of gas, while the landlady
assured us that if we remained patiently till next day, her
house would perhaps be less crowded, and some earlier ar-
rivals might probably become departures; but we did not
excel in patience quite so much as she wished. Travellers
at a hotel generally spend most of their time like flies on a
window-pane, gazing out at the busy world beyond, and there
could scarcely have been a more uninteresting object of
contemplation to come so far for, than the dingy walls of
our little sanctuary decorated with prints representing
several eminent heroes of former times, who may be seen
fighting at every inn on the road. Lord Duncan's por-
trait being the most expensive of these popular engravings,
is confined to the great hotels, but Nelson, Wolfe, and
Abercromby have “a field of fame” in every house. The
Adelphi is an overgrown receptacle, looking as if strangers
might live a week there without being discovered, and
certainly the whole travellers’ club could be accommo-
dated within its precincts, while still several spare rooms
would be left unoccupied ; so we walked there in state,
followed by the half-drowned carriage and horses. Here
a very few moments installed us in such a sitting-room
HILL AND WALLEY. 37
Hf it could be carried, like the Salt-market, wherever we
go, any one might gladly become bound never to enter a
better, provided he never saw a worse. One window com-
manded an interesting view into the court-yard, where a
man cook in fell equipment, with his white cap on, super-
intended his myrmidons, and more than twenty turtles lay
gasping within sight, evidently about before long to re-
gale the bons vivants of Liverpool, though their fate seemed
not quite so distinctly indicated as that of a turtle at Bos-
ton, which was seen crawling about near the door of a
hotel, bearing this very significant inscription on its back,
“Soup to-morrow.” A waiter had strongly recommend-
ed us to see “The Symmetry and the Brittanic gardens,”
so we resolved to lose no time in following this judicious
advice, and proceeded accordingly to explore that very
extraordinary burying-place lately prepared for the future
use of those living thousands inhabiting Liverpool. It is
situated in a large deep quarry, excavated into galleries
and terraces which are planted with flowers; round the
summit is a wreath of handsome houses commanding a
view into this dismal scene, and at the bottom lies a beau-
tiful garden divided with gravel walks and decorated with
trees. Wherever you turn towards the precipitous sides,
vaults are excavated in the solid stone, and each indivi-
dual secures a part of this rocky eminence to be prepared
under his peculiar directions, like the monks of La Trappe
digging their own grave. The celebrated Boswell was so
proud of his family burying-place, being similar to these,
that, during the funeral ceremony over his own wife's re-
mains, he suddenly turned to the company and exclaimed,
“Gentlemen this is all hewn out of solid stone !” It ap-
pears certainly the most ancient mode of burial in the
world, as we read of caves dug in rocks during those early
times when Abraham bought a sepulchre from the children
of Heth ; and coined money was not invented then, as the
4
38 HILL AND WALLEY.
price had to be weighed out. I gazed through the iron
grates of several vaults at Liverpool, and perceived large
marble slabs bearing a few names, while vacancies were
left for others who expect in due time to follow. There is
something peculiarly mournful in thus seeing the “Graves
of a household” one by one dug and tenanted, as the fami-
ly circle gradually becomes broken. To think that those
are now laid silent and insensible together, who loved
each other by the tenderest ties, -
Who grew in beauty side by side,
Who fill'd one home with glee.
While those who yet survive to weep are anticipating the
time when, after the bitterness of death and the anxieties
of life are over, they also shall be mourned in turn. To
consider how many thousand subjects of mutual interest
each family once possessed, though now those plans and
projects, those hopes and fears which agitated their bo-
soms, are closed for ever, and after having wept and re-
joiced in common, and mingled their voices in devotion,
the curtain of eternity is drawn aside, and nothing re-
mains of all that they have done on the earth, unless they
wisely prepared for heaven, there to enjoy unfading trea-
sures laid up in an eternal home
Where death-divided friends at last
Shall meet to part no more.
Quakers allow no sepulchral memorials to be placed over
their deceased friends, and the earth closes above the bu-
ried members of that sect like a wave of the ocean, leaving
not a trace behind ; but it seems as natural as the tears
shed over the grave of departed worth, to ask the sympa-
thy of strangers, and to seek the esteem of future genera-
tions for those whom we know to have merited, though
EIILL AND WALLEY. 39
they never asked for admiration and praise on earth, seek-
ing only that which cometh from above.
Mr. Huskisson’s tomb is marked by nothing, yet except
a weeping ash near the centre of the garden, but a hand-
some monument is about to be erected by subscription, in
commemoration of the mournful calamity which hurried
him to the grave. It was not without an apprehensive
shiver that I now remembered having actually pledged
myself to venture next day upon that very railway where
he had been so unfortunately killed ; and my only conso-
lation arose from the hope which never leaves me when a
party of pleasure is in prospect, that possibly it may be
prevented by rain, for truly on some such occasions I would
gladly give a guinea a drop for one good shower. Mr.
Huskisson was the first person buried in this cemetery, by *
which his friends intended to do him honour, as English-
men view this subject very differently from Highlanders,
who have a superstition, which I never could trace to its
origin, that Satan gets possession of the first corpse laid in
a new cemetery ! The time when I heard of this was in
1830, at Blair ; on which occasion the inn-keeper happen-
ed to mention that a new burying-ground had been pre-
pared during some years without ever coming into use, on
account of no neighbouring family liking to take the pre-
cedence. “We are just waiting,” added the worthy land-
lady, looking hard at me, “to see if, by good chance, some
stranger dies in the place, who could be laid there at
once.” After that, I very nearly resolved to sleep without
a pillow at Blair, in case of being Burked; and it is re-
markable that an English sportsman about that time fairly
died there, when after his interment in the new cemetery,
it was adopted into use. The Scotch have been always
considered particularly provident about funerals; but a
story which amused me once, affords particularly strong
evidence of this propensity. A poor woman in the village
40 HI LL AND WALLEY.
of , had lent her neighbour the carpenter some money,
but finding him quite unable to re-pay her, she obligingly
consented to take the value of his debt in coffins for herself
and all her children. They were accordingly each mea-
sured and provided without delay; but she was heard
often afterwards to complain that the children had quite
out-grown theirs.
It has always been a much admired action in Clarissa
Harlowe preparing her own coffin, with a broken lily on
the top ; but that is quite an un-English idea, and the
only instance on record of such premature preparation
was, when the celebrated Horne Tooke, who liked to be
eccentric in every thing, engraved for his own epitaph on
a tombstone the two words “Grateful and contented ;”
which, if he could have added some expression of Chris-
tian hope, and not confined his view to the past, might
have been perfectly satisfactory. In Scotland the very
poorest monuments are almost invariably sanctified by a
text of Scripture, which is read with interest over the
remains of those who are thus, “though dead yet speak-
ing,” to express the hope in which they expired ; but in
the cemetery here, we scarcely saw an instance of this ve-
nerable custom having been adopted. At one corner of
the quarry, a large place was set apart, which seemed like
a bleaching-green covered with towels, but on nearer in-
spection we found, that those small square stones indica-
ted the paupers’ nameless graves. Neither date nor de-
signation was there, but this very silence became affect-
ing ; their sorrows and privations are for ever at an end,
and when they rise hereafter from that humble bed, all
earthly distinction shall be at an end. I thought of the
beautiful American inscription, where a tomb is described
by Captain Hamilton with no name engraved, but merely
those expressive words, “My mother the trumpet shall
sound and the dead shall arise !” What can be more
IIILL AND WALLEY. 41
sublime than the simplicity of these words, and the awful
ideas they convey !—we shall all be found and known in
that solemn hour, and it matters little in the mean time,
where we await the universal summons ; yet if it were
worth while to entertain a prejudice on the subject, cer-
tainly this receptacle at Liverpool would not often be
preferred. Beattie says, “Mine be the breezy hill that
skirts the plain, and many an evening sun shine sweetly
on my grave ſ” I have always sympathised in feeling
with the Danish Princess, who begged to be buried by
the sea-shore, that her dirge might be sung by her native
breezes ;-
Like melody hush’d while we listen;
Is memory’s dream of the dead.
At Liverpool every great mercantile house has a letter-
box in the General Post Office, composed of glass in front,
therefore at any hour of the day a partner may ascertain
if there be any letters for the firm, merely by looking in,
and with a private key, he can get them before the ordi-
nary hour of delivery. About 800 of these boxes are esta-
blished, where impatient correspondents may contemplate
their letters, which must be neither few nor unimportant,
for in hearing of the immense transactions which are dai-
ly carried on here, we may truly say “her merchants are
princes.”
4*
42 HILL AND WALLEY.,
CHAPTER IV.
Hears his own feet, and thinks they sound like more;
And fears the hind feet will o'ertake the fore.
PopF.
My DEAR cousin,_Pray wind up your imagination with-
out delay, and try to set it agoing, that you may be able to
follow us on the railway at Liverpool, of which I must en-
deavour to give some faint idea.
An amusing caricature was published some time ago, re-
presenting a group of horses in deep and anxious consul-
tation respecting the probable consequence of their services
being no longer required on the road;—the younger ani-
mals were in ecstasies at the change, expecting to live the
rest of their lives upon clover, and to be like emancipated
slaves, while more experienced politicians shook their heads
at so unexpected a franchise, and trembled for the result;
remarking, that it would no longer be the interest of mas-
ters to maintain them, and that this new reform, which
looked so promising, might probably lead to their final de-
struction.
Machinery is superseding labour so universally now,
that even the very hens in a farm-yard, hatching their
chickens under their wings, are likely to be thrown out of
employment by the use of steam ;-the winds and waves
may lie idle, for a vessel at sea can get on without them ;
and needles and spinning wheels work best of themselves
without assistance ; so that the time seems approaching
when men and animals may enjoy one universal holiday,
while all their labours will end in smoke.
It must be a subject of grave solicitude to inn-keepers,
waiters, chambermaids, hostlers, and boots, along the
highroad, to anticipate how this new system of railways
HILL ANTD WALLEY. 43
will “work;” and while tourists are soon to be seen fly-
ing, like birds, from one distant perch to another, these
useful members of society must retire upon half-pay, or
rather upon no pay at all. The rural parts of England
will be as little frequented as in former times, when scarce.
ly any carriages travelled at all, and the peasantry can
have no more communication with strangers passing
through their neighbourhood, than with a flight of crows
over head ; so that before long the country must be re-
duced to that state of primitive simplicity, when pedlars
and beggars had the highway to themselves, and not au
inn could be found for rest or refreshment, except the
hospitable mansion of the neighbouring squire.
When innovations are introduced, it becomes often cu-
rious to trace how wide and unexpected may be the re-
sult, while they frequently affect the fortunes of those whom
we should have thought completely detached from all con-
cern in the consequences. Thus the national interests are
like an electrical rod, when the shock seems applied only to
a part, it nevertheless reaches the whole. I felt peculiar.
ly convinced of this truth, when we heard lately that se.
veral of our Caithness fishermen had been nearly ruined
by the emancipation of West India slaves. It seemed im-
possible that these two classes could have any connection;
but the planters used to order out immense stores of salted
herrings to feed their people, and these can no longer be
purchased, the slaves themselves not having funds to com-
bine in bespeaking such a quantity as renders it worth
while to export them. Many instances will occur to your
memory, of vexatious and unforeseen results arising out of
laws and regulations apparently planned and promulgated
in the utmost height of human wisdom ; and we are thus
led to consider how short-sighted and fallible is our judg-
ment upon every subject, and to wonder more at the un-
bounded knowledge and foresight contained in Holy Scrip-
44 HILL AND WALLEY,
ture; where a code of laws and of duties was established
eighteen hundred years ago, adapted to every country and
individual since, and each injunction in which, has been
found universally essential for the promotion of happiness
and prosperity.—Truly may we exclaim, wherever we go
or whatever we hear, “Oh the depth of the riches both
of the wisdom and knowledge of God l’”
When any traveller takes his position for the first time
in a steam carriage, he certainly must find himself in
rather an original situation,-abandoned to the guidance
of an enormous boiling kettle, and moving along what
looks like an interminable pair of tongs, while he goes at
such a rate that nothing can well exceed it, unless he were
packed into a cannon-ball and fired off. If you wish to
experience a sensation of wonder and exhilaration such as
you never felt before, set off at once and take an airing on
the railway, for after the first terror and astonishment
were over, I was by no means tempted to spring out of the
car, or catch hold of any thing to stop our progress, or to
exhibit such symptoms of distraction as you had shrewdly
prophesied, but on the contrary, would have no objection
to make a daily excursion there, if ever we settle for life
at Liverpool. When Captain Parry stepped on board his
ship, to set out for the North Pole, he probably thought it
a great undertaking, but not a greater than I did, when
we entered “The Venus,” and shot through a dark sub-
terraneous tunnel nearly a quarter of a mile long. This
rather intimidating outset seems planned on purpose to
try the traveller's nerves, and like Acres, the courage of
many oozed out at their finger ends, when we entered
into this cave of Trophonius, lighted with gas, and looking
so like a burying-vault, while the noise could only be com-
pared to the sharpening of a hundred saws. Before long,
however, we emerged into day, and flew off pell-mell,
along a narrow road, cut in the solid rock, and hemmed in
EIILL AND WALLEY. 45
by a lofty adamantine wall on each side, which seemed,
from the rapidity of our motion, to be rushing past us
with headlong velocity. I might have extended my hand
at either window of the carriage and touched the wall,
but it became impossible to look steadily without feeling
giddiness, or to help shrinking back under a feeling of ap-
prehension, as if we must the next instant be plastered to
the wall, like a wasp upon a window. Presently we
reached the open country, when gates, houses, men and cat-
tle, seemed all in a whirl, and to vanish the instant they ap.
peared, though remote objects remained tolerably station-
ary ; and such was the steadiness of the motion that I
even succeeded in sketching a steeple which arose on the
horizon about half-a-mile off. Writing and reading were
perfectly easy-at least to those who could read or write
elsewhere, for we had such a mixed society in the train,
that there might be many who could not. More than a
hundred people altogether filled the line of carriages in
which we were launched, all being drawn by one engine,
the constant hissing of which produces a disagreeable ef.
fect, and must appear particularly unpleasant to orators
and public men, who now and then face a mob upon the
hustings. Perhaps, however, they are more used to it than
others. When we looked out at the carriage window to
take an observation of our progress, it became amusing to
See at least twenty other heads visible in a line, all exhi-
biting much the same expression of nervous excitement;
but after a time I got so completely into the spirit of en-
terprise, that it appeared quite insipid when our pace lin-
gered at only twenty miles an hour. An eider duck flies
at the rate of ninety, so we cannot soon hope to outstrip
such speed, but carrier pigeons may be glad to have re-
tired from business long ago, or they would now have
been completely superseded. Any gentleman, if he had
leave, might take a shot at the grouse in passing, for they
46 EIILL AND WALLEY.
abound on the Chat Moss, a perfect Slough of Despond,
over which the railway took us four miles and three-quar-
ters. It must have puzzled the engineers to make a prac-
ticable road there, as the morass is about twenty feet deep
all the way along, and could scarcely support the weight
of a sportman and his gun. After getting to the full boil,
I examined a stop watch, and our rate of progress proved
to be a mile in two minutes and twenty seconds. We
might really have mistaken, like the gentleman who
thought the mile stones were grave stones. If some mis-
chievous boy had chosen to place any impediment on our
track, the consequence must have been fatal; therefore to
cause greater security, a man is stationed at every half
mile, who runs that distance to meet the travellers, when
expected, and then stands with his finger pointing back-
wards to warrant that nothing is out of order upon the
road. One of these men had lost an arm, but he pointed
with his stump, which proved equally satisfactory. When
another train of carriages passed ours, the velocity became
apparently redoubled, being at a rate of 42 miles an hour,
or one minute and a half per mile ; and nothing can give
an idea of the quickness with which we rushed on in our
different directions, scarcely able to see each other, though
the loud crash was like some great manufactory in mo-
tion. If a concussion had taken place but luckily we
were like planets each fixed into our separate orbit.
A lively Irishman said he asked one of his friends who
passed, “how d'ye do 1" and before the answer could be
spoken, one was at Manchester and the other at Liverpool.
Some time since a race for £500 took place between two of
the engines, which must have outstripped any thing at Ascot
or Doncaster. The favourite however in the first heat
became suddenly broken-winded, but Sky-Rocket came on
to the winning-post, after a run, backwards and forwards,
of 70 miles without stopping to take breath
EIILL AND WALLEY. 47
A great draught of air is caused by passing along so
rapidly, and at one place, where a slight ascent occurred,
some trifling derangement took place in the engine, so it
moved slowly along, with apparent difficulty, puffing and
blowing like an asthmatic person ; which gave so much
appearance of life, that we seemed the most inanimate,_
as if it had come alive, and we were turned into lifeless
images. The country people here are all so accustomed
now to see railway carriages, that to us, who were full of
their novelty, it became quite a mortification, when our
appearance caused scarcely the least excitement or sur-
prise. The labourers hardly condescended to look off
their work, the women only vouchsafed to turn their heads
our way for an instant, the dogs scarcely barked, and the
cows and horses ruminated undisturbed. Certainly those
herds of oxen and poultry which are carried along on the
train must be rather astonished ;-the learned pigs may
improve by travelling, and the geese seemed struck dumb
with surprise. The Lancashire witches, whose vocation
was formerly to steal away hearts, have so long been cele-
brated for success, that I felt rather disappointed in the
fascinations of those who passed. The few cottages we
observed were also more useful than ornamental, though
on some of the best, nothing has been omitted that white
and green paint can do to render them romantic, while
their tall chimneys, looking out from among the trees,
seemed pricking their ears at us, and backing off the road
with alarm. On the whole, it was, as orators invariably
finish their public speeches by remarking, “the proudest
moment of my existence,—which shall be remembered to
the latest hour of my life,” when we stept out of our tri-
umphal car, having survived the dangers of the railway,
and performed a journey of 32 miles in one hour and a
half. The total expense of this line has been estimated at
£820,000,—that is to say £25,625 a mile ; or to use a
48 HILL AND WALLEY,
lady’s measurement, fourteen guineas a yard; while the
charge for maintaining it with fuel, attendants, repairs,
&c., amounts to £1,400 per day ! Some estimate may be
formed what a concourse of travellers frequent this road,
when we are told that the income for mere passengers is
averaged at £100,000 per annum. This confirms my
opinion that the chief characteristic of the present gene-
ration is—restlessness; and that whereas formerly the wan-
dering Jew alone was supposed never to settle, every person
now follows in his footsteps, and like Time himself unceas-
ingly travels.
At Manchester there was nothing to be seen ; but we
spent two hours in ascertaining this fact. It is the great
muslin-shop of Europe, and contains even wealthier mer-
chants than those at Liverpool, though a few are so affluent
in both places that you would be rich with a single day of
their income. Some fortunes here probably equal that as-
cribed to the late Duke of Buccleuch, when our old writing-
master informed a wondering circle of pupils, that his
Grace had “half-a-crown a minute.” We were then
desired to calculate how much that amounted to in a year ;
and I remember being juvenile enough then to fancy his
Grace sitting for ever on an easy chair, counting the half-
crowns as they were brought up in perpetual succession.
This seemed the very height of human grandeur and feli-
city ; but the life of a prosperous merchant must require
almost as incessant attention, without reaping quite so
certain a return. Fortunes seem always largest when any
one receives so much a-day, because if only the pay of a
midshipman—six and sixpence, we think so many days
must occur when he does not spend such a sum, that he
might almost accumulate a fortune on the surplus; but
great as the incomes are in Manchester, such vicissitudes
take place in mercantile affairs, that no individual can be
considered permanently rich till his counting-house be
HILL AND WALLEY. 49
closed, and his capital realized in the Bank of England.
Politicians might almost tremble, in passing through a
great manufacturing district like this, to see what millions
of people are dependent for existence on the prospect
of our cotton manufactures continuing to maintain their
Supremacy in foreign markets, while if any sudden re-ac-
tion arose, it would seem like the embankment of a great
river giving way after being long impeded, and thousands
and tens of thousands must instantly be thrown adrift in a
state of actual starvation. So many desperate men would
then overrun the neighbourhood, that the bands of society
might break loose, and in whatever way it all terminated,
neither civil nor military power could at once quell the
multitude, before such scenes of horror occurred as our
past history can scarcely parallel. The new system of
Political Unions, ruled by factious demagogues, who have
nothing to lose, will rapidly tend to some such calamitous
result, because the chief manufacturers are constantly
checked by finding their men in a combination against
them when least anticipated. It is well known that me-
chanics take advantage of the opportunity to strike for
work always when their masters receive a particularly
advantageous order, after which even women and children
are unwillingly thrown out of employment, and reduced to
abject distress, while they dare not relieve themselves by
returning to labour. Thus men of capital, receiving so
many discouragements, will cease to venture their all on
speculation in so stormy a sea, and having no longer the
spirit nor the wealth to carry on manufactures as they
have done, those great commercial cities will but too pro-
bably sink either gradually or suddenly into irretrievable
confusion and distress. In the meantime it would be very
desirable if, when threats are issued by Political Unions,
the president and office-bearers were made personally re-
sponsible for all the crimes committed at their instigation,
5
50 HILL AND WALLEY.
being then obliged either to pay the penalty themselves, or
to trace out and deliver up those who cause any breach of
the peace.—But ladies giving their opinions on political
economy always remind me of General ’s servant,
who read the newspaper aloud to his master, and never
could be prevented stopping to volunteer his own view of
what the public speakers ought to have said, and how the
various sovereigns and statesmen should have acted, till at
last the old gentleman exclaimed in an incontrollable rage,
“Hold your tongue, David, neither you nor I are compe-
tent to direct the emperor of Austria and Sir Robert
Peel !”
Returning from Manchester to Liverpool, we discover-
ed, not for the first time in our lives, that nothing is so te-
dious to travellers as retracing their steps over any ground;
and if a balloon could have been hired to take us back, we
felt almost equal to the enterprise, after venturing on the
railway with impunity; but seeing no such alternative in
our option, we performed an immediate Da Capo, and
certainly, as musicians say, made a run con spirito and
crescendo.
The new market-place at Liverpool, which cost about
fa0,000, partakes much of the marvellous, and is consi-
dered a great lion in its way, being roofed in for three-
quarters of a mile, and divided into stalls as neat and re-
gular as a London bazaar. At night the whole is illumi-
nated by 141 gas lamps, looking as brilliant as Vauxhall,
and requiring only a few fireworks to be equally amusing.
Ladies might make their own markets here without any
danger of being disgusted, and if a French cook were sum-
moned to the spot, and a fire lighted, every thing in or
out of season was ready that could possibly be imagined
for a great entertainment—fish, fruit, cheese, fowls, vege-
tables, eggs, pastry, butter, and meat. You might have
supposed that Liverpool was provisioned for a siege of six
HILL AND WALLEY. 51
months. It seemed like a magnified bee-hive, when we
listened to the murmur of several hundred voices under
one roof, all eagerly engaged in buying, selling, scolding,
gossipping, and quarrelling. What a stagnation the
world would fall into, were it not for the love of money,
which keeps every body active, either to gain or to spend
wealth. -
It is an interesting proof of wisdom in Him who formed
us, to observe that every propensity of nature is useful in
moderation, and only evil when carried to excess. Ac-
quisitiveness, if kept in due subordination, is the main-
spring of honest industry. Curiosity, which so often de-
generates into a love of gossip, causes tourists to travel,
and history to be recorded, while even anger has its uses,
when directed against vice, and kept under that proper re-
straint indicated by Scripture, “Be ye angry and sin
not.” If these feelings were extinguished in the world,
mankind would fall into a lethargy; and one important
office of religion is to curb every instinct within proper
bounds, and render all subservient to the great object of
promoting universal piety and good order.
Leaving Liverpool, and proceeding towards the Birken-
head Ferry, a glimpse is gained of the splendid docks, said
to be three miles in extent ; and though we could not wait
to count the masts, their number might be compared to an
American forest. It is inconceivable how vessels can be
packed so closely in harbour, and how, after being com-
pletely wedged in, they ever get extricated ; but I watched
several steam-boats enter, wheeling into their places with
all the precision of a well-driven carriage. We passed
near the floating chapel, where a congregation was assem-
bled for evening worship, and it seemed quite crowded
with sailors, who probably enjoy attending the more for
being on their favourite element. One prominent feature
in the view was called “ the Red Nose ;” and though that
52 HILL AND VALLEY.
is not generally an object of admiration, no rule is without
exception, for this was exceedingly ornamental and comme
il faut. - - -
Some foreign musicians favoured us with music during
the voyage. We had Liber Augustine and Malbrook
very tolerably sung to a guitar, while the paddles of the
steam-boat beat time, and the splash of the waves formed
an obligato accompaniment. It is strange how perplex-
ingly tunes often recal a dim glimpse of long forgotten
days, as if we had been accustomed to hear those very
airs in the hours of infancy, before memory acquired the
distinctness of mature years, and faces and scenes ſlit be-
fore your fancy which had vanished into oblivion. No
itinerant music is too atrocious for me not to tolerate, or
rather to derive positive enjoyment from, on account of
the transient accidental way in which it comes, and I
have often wondered, while we laughed at the enraged
musician Mr. , who sent out some halfpence to a
street violin player, desiring him to go away instantly, and
not to come back, or he should be turned into a blind fid-
dler, upon which the man coolly answered, that he “never
stopped playing for less than sixpence.”
Having now, in the course of one day, tried every sort
of travelling by sea or land, it seems but fair to record,
that not being particular, I prefer old fashioned post-
ing to all the newly invented railways, steam-boats, para-
chutes, or balloons. It was with no small pleasure, there-
fore, that we deposited ourselves once more in the carriage,
even though our postillion seemed so stupified with beer
that he had to be three times roused from his slumbers, by
energetic calls on his attention, as we meandered from side
to side, measuring the breadth of the road as often as its
length, and grazing alongside of hedges and ditches, with-
in an inch or two of driving into them altogether. Our
danger was increased by the multitude of public coaches
IIILL AND VALLEYs 53
we passed at full speed ; for during this one stage I count-
ed fourteen, each drawn by four horses, and crowded with
passengers. What could so many people find to do! It
might have been curious to ascertain from each individual,
flying in such haste, the object of his journey. One can-
not wonder at poets in search of the picturesque, milliners
in pursuit of ſashions, and bagmen hunting for customers ;
but the difficult thing to conceive is why such multitudes
of children are always travelling. No public conveyance
ever seems to pass without a detachment of them ; and in
steam-boats they swarm, eating gingerbread nuts, fragrant
with peppermint drops, treading on every person’s dress,
and crying so vociferously that an old gentleman once
wished they were treated as infants are in the Fox Islands,
whose heads are thrust under water the moment they be-
gin to cry, and never raised till they stop.
Travellers in America, Germany, and other foreign coun-
tries, make so perpetual an outcry in their pages about
the horrors of tobacco, that you would imagine pipes utterly
unknown at home ; but half the people we passed to-day
were flagrant smokers, and as that seems generally a preface
to drinking, it is deplorable that, from the humble pipe to
the aristocratic cigar, our whole island will soon be smoked
like a Westphalia ham. So great a waste of health and
money among the poorer classes should be discouraged,
both by precept and example, or the custom will soon be
universally prevalent. In Holland, at public dinners, if any
gentleman be particularly wanted, the waiter enters with a
pair of bellows, and blows in the face of each member, to
find the one required. I wish servants occasionally made
the same mistake as Sir Walter Raleigh's, who became
terrified the first time he saw columns of smoke issuing from
his master's mouth, and threw a deluge of cold water on
his head “to extinguish him.”
Our drive for sixteen miles led through a most beautiful
5*
54 HILL AND WALLEY.
country, if it had only been more distinctly visible ; but
clouds of dust which we ourselves raised in journeying
along obscured the bright prospect, otherwise so extensive
and delightful. How much this resembles our progress in
life, when the trifles nearest and most insignificant engross
that attention which would be better bestowed on bright
and unseen objects beyond - -
Towards evening many elegant villas appeared, where
we should probably have found an excellent joint of home-
fed mutton and a cheerful fire-side, had it been possible to
drop in for a moment, like Paul Pry, without intruding, but
we were rather tantalized at passing a continual succession
of gates and approaches which look so inviting. Travel-
lers should put their arrival at every place in the newspa-
per, adding as a hint to hospitably disposed frends, “Let-
ters and messages may be left at the Royal Hotel any day
this week.” The merriest group I have seen anywhere was
during this stage, where we passed a numerous flock of
children with four donkeys, which they seemed about to
mount and ride. Those very respectable quadrupeds would
have been generally prized hād horses never been invented ;
and the long-eared race are certainly preferred by painters,
who introduce them more frequently in landscape scenery.
Poets have also spared them a few stanzas, but, since the
time of Sterne's ass, I never knew their merits so heartily
appreciated as in the noisy happy party we passed.
Cheshire is such a great manufactory of cheeses, a
fromagerie, as it has been called, that travellers might al-
most expect the roads to be paved and the air perfumed
with them. The rivers are not however as Baron Mun-
chausen describes those in the cheese island, “running with
milk.”
If any traveller were desired to choose only one town
in Great Britain to lionize, let him fix at once on Chester,
as the most eccentric that can be seen, and no person of
HILL AND WALLEY,
5
5
taste should allow himself to die without going there once.
For my own part, it would have appeared worth while to
drive all the way we had come, with our eyes shut, in or-
der to experience at last, the sensation of interest with
which I first beheld this venerable city, the oldest in En-
gland, and certainly the most picturesque.
Villages are often described in books as Chester-built,
without producing any very definite idea of what may be
meant, but the effect here is certainly very peculiar, the
external wall divided with cross-beams of black wood, and
the intermediate spaces filled with white plaster, so that
houses all appear in slight mourning, seemingly built of
large visiting cards with black edges. Some are marked
out in triangles and octagons, as if they had originally
been Chinese puzzles erected into dwelling houses, and their
gable ends seem generally turned towards the street, with
high pointed roofs, and fantastically formed windows filled
with diamond-shaped panes of glass. On the second floor,
level with the drawing-rooms, and elevated completely
above the ground, is a public foot-path, along the principal
streets, so that pedestrians take a bird’s eye view of the
equipages below. As all the principal shops must be en-
tered from those curious piazzas, to which stair-cases lead
from the carriage road, ladies may go through the two
great occupations of life, shopping and visiting, for a whole
day, without scarcely touching the ground. This covered
gallery was originally intended for safety when the town
was invaded by an enemy, as the inhabitants could throw
down stones and all sorts of missiles on the besiegers, and
find a defence here ſrom the arrows and javelins of their
opponents ; but now they are merely used as a defence
against the rain, and umbrellas have quite a sinecure of.
fice in the streets of Chester.
This city was famous for its sacred dramas, in those
good times formerly when plays were written, like Mrs.
56 IIILL AND WALLEY.
Hannah More's, to afford instruction in history and reli-
gion, without becoming also the vehicles of immorality and
vice. Performances of this kind used then to be publicly
announced from the pulpit ; they took place in churches
by daylight, when monks and boys acted the characters,
and Pope Clement the VI. granted one thousand years' in-
dulgence to those pious persons who attended the series of
solemn mysteries at Chester. In Dr. Lee's evidence before
the House of Commons respecting the observance of Sunday,
it is mentioned that, till some time after the death of John
Knox, sacred comedies were performed on the Lord’s Day
between the services, in many parts of Scotland, under
sanction of the church courts, and that they were carefully
revised by the clergyman of the parish. One of these was
named “The Forlorn Son,” and exemplified the Prodigal's
whole history; another represented the “Fall of Lucifer;”
and a third, “The Deluge.” If our pious forefathers
thought such exhibitions had a tendency to do good, how
astonished they would have been at the degraded state of
theatrical exhibitions in London now, but their own enter-
tainments were liable to the same strong objections, which
apply to oratorios, alluding as they did to subjects too aw-
ful and too solemn for any place not consecrated to the one
great purpose of sacred worship.
Who could sit at a theatre to hear songs, however beau-
tiful, which described the sufferings or death of their dearest
friends and nearest relatives | yet. He, whose agonics and
sorrows are brought to mind in such a scene, was more
than a brother to every Christian ; and none whose hearts
are penetrated with gratitude and veneration could easily
remain satisfied while the subject of their deepest emotions
was thus alluded to. Others, who know not yet what it is
to mourn in secret over their own share in the afflictions of
Him who was “despised and rejected of men,” may find
HILL AND WALLEY. 57
their feelings roused for a moment, but it will only be by
a temporary, though pleasing, enthusiasm, while
*mºsºmº
content to hear,
Oh! wonderſul effect of music's charms |
Messiah’s eulogy for Handel's sake.
We saw from our windows at Chester, a small unobtru-
sive Roman Catholic procession, which forcibly exemplified
the change since former days, when it would have passed
along in all the pride and pomp of papal power. Now they
could muster no more than a few nuns in white caps and
veils, followed by a rabble of the poorest people, who were
celebrating either a funeral or a festival, it was difficult to
guess which.
Chester having been built by the Romans as their capital,
is shaped like an oncampment, with a Cathedral placed
where the Pretorium should have been. It secrms very
strongly fortified, and has a promenade on the top of the
ancient city-wall, built by Princess Edelfleda in 908.
Here we walked about two miles, comparing our elevated
path to the great wall of China, as it carried us completely
round the city, and I enjoyed looking down, as perhaps
King Alfred did before us, on the apple orchards, the sum-
mits of trees, and into the chimneys of the houses. If we
could have only removed the roofs of these residences, and
observed, like “Le Diable Boiteua,” what people were think-
ing and doing within, that would have added much to our
entertainment; for what a world of cares, and sorrows, and
pleasures, exist in every human dwelling; and though all
seemed peaceful and smiling around, how many scenes of
heart-stirring joy, or of heart-rending grief, were perhaps
then in progress amongst those whom we saw hastening to
their homes.
If travellers could see all the events that happen during
one day in a great city, how strange a picture of life it
58 PHILL AND WALLEY.
would convey ! And when considering the many crimes
daily committed, while the eye of a holy God sees them
all, we admire and adore the goodness and forbearance of
Him, who would have spared even Sodom and Gomorrah
if ten righteous men had been there, and who preserves a
world abounding in wickedness, ſor the sake of those who
shall mercifully be saved.
The walls of Chester cathedral are mouldering fast away,
being built of very soft crumbling stone, which has the
appearance of a well boiled potato. In external architec-
ture it is plain, and the chief interior ornament is a splen-
did screen of richly carved oak. The expense of raising
so intricate a piece of work now, would be unspeakable.
The oak frame for a small piece of embroidery, lately cost
£9, and though carved very tolerably for modern artificers,
it would be unworthy to fill up a crevice in the screen at
Chester ; which is cut in the minute style of a sandal-
wood fan, and stands about thirty feet high. Nothing can
be handsomer than the episcopal throne, formed of richly
carved ivory, with a great show of gilding on the figures,
and a mitre adorning the top. It is not very generally
remembered, perhaps, that the Bishop’s mitre was meant,
in ancient times, to represent the cloven tongues of fire
which descended on the Apostles and “sat upon each of
them.” These old customs are of such venerable anti-
quity, that it becomes a pleasure to trace out their origin ;
and I believe the using coats of arms, though commonly
attributed to the times of the Crusaders, when each chief
chose a badge or motto, was first instituted when the
twelve tribes of Israel were numbered in their tents, and
every man was desired to “pitch his own standard, with
the ensign of his father’s house.”
The bridge at Chester is the widest span of any single
arch in Britain, being 240 feet in extent. This, along
with the County Buildings, appears almost the only mo-
EIILL AND WALLEY. 59
dern acquisition to the ancient city. It was here, on the
Dee, that King Edgar arrived in his barge rowed by seven
kings. In modern times, Bonaparte might, perhaps, have
commanded as great a retinue of crowned heads, but
monarchs are few and far between now, compared with
those ancient days, when we read that Abraham with
318 men, conquered four kings, who had previously sub-
dued five others, and Joshua destroyed thirty-one.
The new barracks at Chester are extremely handsome,
and would have astonished a Roman soldier of former
days; but I felt disappointed in the castle which withstood
so many sieges from Welsh and English armies in the
olden time, and was considered a place of great strength.
It is said that a long wall was built of Welshmen's skulls,
which might have been as good a studio for Phrenologists
as the Catacombs at Paris, but not a trace remains extant
now. We were amused lately to hear of an emaciated
gentleman who went to lionize the bone-house at Rippon,
and after his exit, the keeper called loudly to stop him,
saying, “Hollo, friend are you making your escape ſ”.
The external appearance of Chester castle presents only
a high massy blank wall, pierced with occasional slits for
the arrows to be shot through, and it stands on an emi-
nence commanding the whole surrounding country, with
the beauty of which I began falling into raptures, when
A unexpectedly gave his verdict, that it seemed “no-
thing very extraordinary.” I still positively record my
own opinion, however, for your benefit, who cannot go
there to decide the question, that the view from the battle-
ments is beautiful, and amongst other interesting objects
we saw the Chester race-course, the oldest extant, having
been used by the Romans for their equestrian exercises.
Next day, we took, for the first time, a really long walk,
and directed our steps towards Eaton Hall, one of the most
splendid modern houses in England, where an opportunity
60 HILL AND WALLEY , ,
is good-naturedly afforded to ordinary mortals, of seeing
all that human ingenuity can devise, or wealth accomplish,
in the way of producing luxury and splendour.
The approach prepares a stranger for something won-
derful, being more than two miles long ; and my expecta-
tions respecting a house which had retreated into so dig-
nified a retirement, rose at every step. Persons going
there in ceremonious form to visit, must find the way
rather tedious, as, after passing the lodge, ladies generally
begin adding a last touch to their curls, and anticipating
all the solemn formalities of a reception. On the present
occasion nothing worse was to be apprehended than the
housekeeper’s salutation, who received us, however, with
dignity enough for a marchioness, and wore a most splen-
did collar of Valenciennes lace.
A learned lady she, who knew the names
Of all the pictures in the golden frames.
It would be unfair to intrude on her vocation, by de-
scribing all the curiosities of furniture that she exhibited,
or I could fill a volume with satin damask, velvet hangings,
gilding, groined ceilings, variegated marble floors, and
Turkey carpets, all according to the latest authority, from
Gillow ; but though each of the chairs cost what might
furnish a cottage, and the drawing-room lustre must re-
semble, when lighted up, the sun itself, nothing could be
less interesting than to read of dining tables where you
never expect to dine, and of arm-chairs which are to
spread their arms in vain for us. The superb mirror in
this house was destroyed some years ago in a most extra-
ordinary and provoking manner. During an election,
Lord Westminster gave his support to one of the candi-
dates, and some person, who has never been discovered,
took a diamond pencil, and privately wrote quite across the
looking-glass, in large letters, “Egerton for ever !” We
HILL AND VALLEY. 61
may hope that all the ill-luck supposed to attend the
breaking of a mirror was visited on the perpetrator of
such a piece of more than boyish malice.
This family appear uncommonly partial to glass, seeing
that most of their ancestors’ portraits are painted on it; and
as they must have been all executed by one artist, we were
reminded of the Persian ambassador, who offended the
housekeeper at Holyrood palace, by asking if she had herself
sketched all the kings of Scotland who hang there in re-
gular succession from the time of Abraham.
The saloon at Eaton Hall displays three magnificent
windows, containing likenesses of William the Conqueror,
with his nephew on one side, and his uncle on the other,
quite a family party, also the heiress of Eaton, and a Sir
Robert Le Grosvenor in similar transparencies, looking very
like what we see at an illumination. Three Earls of Chester
are represented in each window of an ante-room, and the
effect seems as if they all actually stood in the room unseen,
while their reflections are shown in a mirror. Hugh Lupus,
the most distant progenitor of this family, stands full length,
gazing in at the dining-room window, and every sash in the
drawing-room is adorned with ethereal looking beings, like
children of the mist, or apparitions. Certainly the present
marquis and marchioness must be entirely devoid of personal
vanity to allow the exhibition of those likenesses, which
were pointed out as intended for them. In the entrance hall,
which is two stories high, are four niches, containing the
formidable figures of as many warriors, clad in complete
steel, who very probably clash their armour at night when
the great clock tolls the midnight hour. Even the glass
cupola here is variously coloured, so that the inhabitants of
Eaton Hall must be apt to forget what is the common hue
of day-light, though for all ordinary purposes, both air and
water seem best in their natural state, and seldom derive
much advantage from being dyed, perfumed, or adulterated
6
62 HILL AND WALLEY,
in any way. The dining-room ceiling is curiously painted
in coats of arms, with colours proper; but so brilliant a roof
has too much the effect of a carpet, “splendidly heavy and
tawdrily fine.” The long vista visible from this room,
through the whole extent of the apartments, has a superb
effect; but you would require a railway carriage to reach
the library. Lord Westminster possesses one of the finest
collections of pictures in England, and I wish it had been
hung up here, instead of in London ; but noblemen who
have a variety of residences must find their luxuries and
comforts much scattered, and some always absent, their
library in one place, their conservatory in another, their
pictures at a third, their plate at a fourth, their hunters at
a fifth, and perhaps themselves cooped up in a watering-
place, or shivering over a charcoal stove in some uncarpeted
room on the Continent.
As to external appearance, Eaton Hall is built in the style
which architects technically term the “Florid Gothic,”
being so richly ornamented, that some critics, who fastidious-
ly object to much trimming and decoration, think the whole
overdone; but certainly the effect is very splendid. The pro-
digious windows, bidding defiance to the window-tax—the
massy turrets—the lofty battlements and pinnacles—the
richly carved balustrades—the profusion of shields, coronets,
and armorial bearings—the beautiful colour of the stone—
and the cathedral-like aspect of the whole building, is most
imposing, and may serve as an evidence to future genera-
tions, if any be wanting, of the taste and munificence of its
founder, the reigning marquis, who raised it on the found-
ation of an old castle, co-eval with William III.
Ancient houses are almost invariably well situated for
enjoying a landscape, and Eaton Hall commands one of
the most extensive home views I have seen. The grounds
extend several miles in all directions, exhibiting some splen-
did park scenery, and displaying a curiously shaped hill,
HILL AND VALLTY, 63
on which once stood a town reared by some Saxon princess,
who retired there for life, and called it “The Happy City.”
We may hope she found it so. The old castle of Beeston
now remains alone on the summit. The housekeeper after-
Wards pointed in a different direction, where she said one
of the Welsh mountains ought to be visible; but added,
that “his lordship and herself had been trying all their lives
to discern it, though in vain;” so we despaired of accom-
plishing in half an hour what they had been many years
attempting without success.
“The Spanish fleet thou can'st not see,
Because 'tis mot in sight.”
As usual on the occasion of such visitations, we were de-
sired to record our names in a book, where I perceived
that strangers had amused themselves with adopting a va-
riety of jocular designations, such as “The Welsh Ambas-
sador,” “Prince Llewellyn,” “Sir Andrew Ague-Cheek,”
and “Miss Biddy Fudge ;” but we inserted ours without
disguise or circumlocution, and proceeded to the magnifi-
cent gardens, which are so extensive, that to keep them in
order, they require sixty gardeners —a perfect regiment
These knights of the thistle are drilled and directed by a
Scotchman named Duff, whom I found very civil and in-
telligent, especially after he ascertained that we were also
transplanted from the same northern soil. He exhibited an
aloe which lately blossomed, mentioning that the stem grew
five inches a-day, till having attained the height of fifteen
feet, it stopped, and the flower opened. No wonder that the
plant takes a hundred years at least, to rest after such an
effort. I would have made an appointment to return next
time it flowers; but the plan might scarcely be of more
avail than the old woman’s, who bought a young parrot that
she might see whether it really lived so long as a century.
The park round Eaton Hall is certainly rather too flat,
64 HILL AND WALLEY.,
and could not have shown a drop of water; but the mar-
quis dug an imitation lake, and turned the river Dee into it.
As the Irishman said, though it be called artificial water, it
is all real. Nothing can be finer than the trees, tasteful-
ly sprinkled around; and amongst them I admired most a
double row of majestic limes, which stretched away further
than the eye could reach.
We had a sultry stroll homewards through the Superb
park, discussing many improvements which might and
ought to be made. Every one occasionally wastes time
in thinking how judiciously he could manage another's af.
fairs, and how admirably he could act in some different
person’s place, so it became very self-evident, on the pre-
sent occasion, that if we had been elected caliphs for one
day, the grounds might certainly have been Reptonized
into looking very tolerable.
This park is said to abound in game, and would have
been a delightful place for gentlemen to enjoy that most
dangerous of all amusements, a battue, when a perfect
platoon of guns being fired at once from every side, the
sportsmen are almost as likely to be shot as the birds.
Pheasants afford such facility to poachers from their
slow heavy motion, that, without wishing to encroach on
Colonel Hawker’s province, it may be allowable to re-
mark, how frequent an introduction to crime is the temp-
tation held out to persons destitute of absolute necessaries,
who see those beautiful birds swarming in extensive parks,
and so tame that they might be knocked down with a para-
sol. On this account many proprietors in England are
now endeavouring as anxiously to reduce their numbers as
they once did to increase them, and we observed none
in Eaton Park. Several years since a pheasant was al-
most as rare as a phoenix, and an amusing trait used to
be related of some very ostentatious country gentleman,
who advertised in the newspapers a handsome reward for
HILL AND WALLEY. 65
apprehending “a daring villain who had broken into his
pheasantry, and stolen the whole breed.” It afterwards
turned out, on legal investigation, that he possessed only
one pheasant in a cage, and a cat, which had crept in,
devoured it.
After a slight luncheon, consisting of a bottle of soda
water, we prepared to proceed, and ſound the bill for one
day’s lodging so unusually exorbitant, that the inn-keeper
has probably adopted for his motto that line in Marmion,
“Charge, Chester, charge l’” It becomes a hopeless de-
ficiency in travelling, when no good scold is of the party,
for unless gentlemen now and then bring down the bell-
rope, or show other symptoms of energy, landlords and
waiters are so accustomed to be found fault with, that a
mere every-day storm has no effect, and, like sailors in a
gale of wind, they attend to nothing short of a hurricane ;
but it was not much in our way to raise a very effective
one, so we passed a silent vote of disapprobation, and in
Parliamentary phrase, the “bill was ordered to lie on the
table,” though not thrown out. A whimsical old gentle-
man who travelled constantly some years ago, and delight-
ed to render himself an object of terror and respect on the
road, invented an ingenious plan, by means of which he
could show off his angry vehemence at an inn from the
very first moment, and have some excuse then for com-
mencing a storm, which generally raged unabated until
his departure. When his gig drove up to an inn door, if
the hostler seized the reins, he exclaimed in a furious tone,
“How dare you touch my horse, Sir without leave ſ”
but if, on the contrary, the unfortunate man held back, he
angrily remonstrated, saying, “Is a gentleman to arrive
at your master's house, Sir without your even showing
him the civility to hold his horse !”
With all its faults, however, I should like to have linger-
ed a week longer at the “—'s Hotel,” that we
6+
66 HILL AND WALLEY,
might have more fully investigated the fine old town of
Chester, which, with the recollections of past history it
brings to mind, is like some venerable old veteran resting
in peace and retirement after the turmoil of battles and
sieges in his early days.
HILL AND WALLEY, 67
CHAPTER V.
There mused alone on ancient mountain brows,
And mused on battle fields, where valour ſought
In other days, and mused on ruins grey
With years, and drank from old and fabulous wells
And mused on famous tombs, and on the wave
Of ocean mused, and on the desert waste,
Aught that could more expand, refine the soul—
Thither he went, and meditated there.
My DEAR Cousin, We are now making an experimental
dip into Wales, and with many a lingering look behind at
Chester, proceeded on Tuesday towards Wrexham, beguil-
ing the first half of our drive by discussing whether it
would rain or not, which was finally decided for us by the
fall of a perfect water-spout, that poured without intermis-
sion throughout the evening, deluging the road till it look-
ed like a river, and turning every window of the carriage
into a cascade. You would now have understood for the
first time, what the Scotch mean by saying they are
“drenched through and through.” As Wrexham church is
considered one of the seven wonders of Wales, I insisted
on setting out under an umbrella to inspect it, which accord-
ingly we did, and both stood, like Dr. Syntax, to be rain-
ed on, while, in total oblivion of what foreigners call “the
catch cold,” we leisurely admired this beautiful tower, a
profusely decorated piece of architecture scarcely equalled
throughout the country. Generally in England all spires
appear rather short, as if they should be drawn out like a
telescope to render them tall enough ; but, on this occasion,
every eye must be amply gratified, since the tower of Wrex-
ham rises about one hundred and forty feet high. Statues
68 HILL AND WALLEY.
of thirty saints as large as life are placed near the summit.
If they had shown their faces on our side of the Tweed, the
whole party would have been prostrated in the dust, by
our first reformers. It is nevertheless believed, that John
Knox lamented more truly than any one, the destruction
of our cathedrals, and that he lived to regret, as so many
do too late, having roused a spirit in the mob, which his
own influence proved insufficient to quell. In looking at
the fine old tower at Wrexham, I could not but think how
often the Christian life has been compared to such a lofty
spire as this, raising its head towards heaven, and pointing
to the eternal skies, while the innocent pleasures of exist-
ence resemble those tasteful ornaments, beautiful in them-
selves, which, though they do not long distract our atten
tion from the whole magnificent elevation, must be con-
templated at such a distance, that the trifling decorations
disappear from our notice.
We sent a messenger requesting the sexton to exhibit
the interior of Wrexham church, but I suppose he prudent-
ly considered the evening not good enough for him to
venture out in, so after waiting with tolerable patience,
rather more than a reasonable time, we returned to the
inn, feeling every thing damped except our ardour for
lionizing, and since then I have never ceased to regret
not seeing Roubiliac’s celebrated monument to the me-
mory of Miss Middleton. It must be one of the most ani-
mated and expressive pieces of sculpture in this country.
Her figure is said to be beautifully represented bursting
from the tomb with a look of astonishment and admiration,
while in the back-ground a pyramid seems falling at the
sound of the last trumpet. It is finely conceived, for thus
the “mortal shall put on immortality, and death be swal-
lowed up in victory, when the grave shall deliver up the
dead which are in it, and every man shall be judged
according to his works.” In contemplating such monu-
HILL AND WALLEY. 69
ments of fond partiality on the part of survivors, and in
reading the universal panegyric which friends pronounce
upon those who are gone, it is often affecting to observe
how death puts the seal of oblivion on all the trifling jea-
lousies and differences which occasionally estrange near
connections.
When cold in the earth lies the friend thou hast lov’d,
Be his faults and his follies forgot by thee them;
Or, if ſron their slumber the veil be removed,
Weep o'er them in silence, and close it again.
How often the living would gladly give more than they
ever possessed to atone for the trifling irritabilities of
domestic intercourse, and to feel that they had valued de-
parted relatives always, as they value them when death has
caused a final separation. If friends could but anticipate
for one hour, the remorse with which they may hereafter
perhaps look upon the tombs of those whose affection now
they can feel justified in carelessly slighting, or over whom
they harshly tyrannize, how carefully would their own
hearts be shielded from the anguish of such a retrospection.
In Wrexham church-yard is one curious old epitaph, the
commencement of which might have entitled the deceased,
had he lived till now, to be president of the Travellers’
Club.
“Born in America, in Europe bred,
In Afric travell'd, and in Asia wed.”
Nearly the whole population of Wrexham had gone out
early on the day of our arrival, to attend a meeting of
“The Ladies’ Club,” a society instituted for charitable
purposes. Members begin the morning with going to
church, and collecting a subscription for the sick and
poor, after which a dance takes place, kept up generally
with great spirit throughout the evening.
70 HILL AND WALLEY.
They eat and drink and dance, what then 3
Why dance and drink and eat again
This is not an uncommon way now of testifying sym-
pathy with the sufferings of others, and though it seems ra-
ther incongruous, any thing is better than to sit still and
do nothing. The landlord mentioned, that several of these
philanthropic dancing societies are established at Wrexham,
and that “the poorest servant would be ashamed of not
subscribing to one.” Their festivities usually take place
in a bowling green, therefore we regretted that such tor-
rents of rain disturbed the active benevolence of those
personages assembled, but if the evening had cleared up,
we should have felt much tempted to step out, on the
tiptoe of curiosity, in hopes of being admitted honorary
members.
One of the grandest places in this part of Wales is
Wynnstay, which we entered from the pretty village of
Ruabon, with due sentiments of thankfulness for the pri-
vilege granted to all strangers, of advancing through the
park. It is difficult to imagine, after any proprietor has
done all that taste or wealth can achieve to embellish his
beautiful place, what pleasure can arise from denying
others the transient gratification of a single glance, either
to excite gratitude for the admission, or envy by the dis-
play. ' The mistress of a noble domain, having occasion
to be absent lately, left rigid orders behind not to admit a
single visitor, but one very free and easy neighbour never-
theless made her way good, and not content with bringing
a numerous party of friends to ransack the house, she
moreover boasted to the proprietrix afterwards, how much
her fine sitting-rooms had been admired. Instead of feel-
ing any benevolent pleasure, however, that so many people
had been happy, the dame du maison instantly began a
rigid investigation, which culprit among the domestics and
lodge-keepers had inadvertently given the party admission,
EIILL AND VALLEY. 71
that the offender might be instantly cashiered and dismiss-
ed the service Mrs. Edgeworth’s advice to her son
would be useful to servants on that establishment, “Learn
to say no.” Sir Watkins Williams Wynne is not such an
exclusive, as he liberally allows all travellers to pass “sans
peur et sans reproche,” through his splendid park, eight
miles in circumference, and kept in such order that not a
leaf seems out of its place.
The approach, or, as an old Scotch gardener called it,
“ the reproach” to this place, is one of the most majestic
that can be fancied, more than a mile long, and every se-
parate tree a perfect patriarch of the forest. Oaks, elms,
beeches, and Spanish chesnuts tower above each other on
every side, standing in regimental order, rank and file, as
if making way to let us pass, for the long lines stretch till
they apparently meet again, while the branches so nearly
touch all the way along, that an active monkey, or a squir-
rel for a wager, could spring from tree to tree throughout
their whole extent. After so impressive a commencement,
the house itself is rather a falling off. Who had ever
great expectations raised, which were not subsequently
disappointed and the present residence would scarcely
have formed a wing to the magnificent palace which had
risen before my mind’s eye for the modern Prince of
Wales, Sir W. W. W. of Wynnstay. The mansion
stands very high, and resembles an elegant Italian villa,
with large, airy, cheerful windows, exhibiting every indi-
cation of modern comfort, but too fresh from the quarry
to be at all interesting, as it would have appeared more
appropriate in the Regent’s Park, than among those ve-
nerable trees nearly as old as the surrounding mountains.
72 HILL AND WALLEY.
CHAPTER VI.
Yet ever (as you wittily say) a tee totum
Between all its twirls gives a letter to mote 'em.
MooRE.
My DEAR Cousin, -You will remember how we laughed
at the story of a country magistrate, who told Frederick
the Great, that he had nine reasons to offer for not firing
a salute when his majesty entered the town. “In the first
place, they had no guns;” upon hearing which the king
stopped him, saying, that one apology might suffice when
so amply satisfactory. My recent deficiency as a corres-
pondent might be accounted for on equally numerous pre-
texts, but, in the first place, I had no pens; at least those
which decoratéd the inkstand at Wrexham were exact
copies of what we see represented in the miseries of human
life, having no split, or cracked to their hilts, and the iron
implement which travels with me only scratches my paper
like a needle.
Proceeding onwards from Wynnstay, we soon after
reached the gate of Brinkynalt, a magnificent estate be-
longing to Lord Dungannon, where seeing a groom in
livery entering, I enquired whether it would be allowable
for our carriage to follow. The poor man looked round
in a state of civil perplexity, and replied, that his place
would be forfeited if he gave leave, “but,” added he sig-
nificantly, “the gate is not locked, and if your post-boy
chooses to open it, I sha’nt hinder him l’” From his hu-
morous expression he must have been Irish, and it was
quite diverting to observe how anxiously he watched to
see whether we profited by the hint, which of course we
HILL AND WALLEY. 73
did. Instantly cantering forward, when it became evi-
dent that our carriage was following, he obligingly opened
all the other gates, holding them ready for us to pass, and
let it be recorded to his no small credit also, that at last,
he waited for neither fee nor reward, though we were pre-
pared to be liberal and grateful.
Brinkynalt is built to resemble an old priory, whence a
procession of monks might have been expected to issue,
but it is recently enlivened and modernized by a long range
of arches in front, now covered with scarlet geraniums in
full flower, looking gay and fantastic, like a scene in Flore
et Zephyre at the opera. -
Even amidst so much to admire, it is a comfort to ad-
mire ad libilum, without guide or proprietor, to dictate
where we ought to be delighted, or to relate a tedious his-
tory about this fine vista having been opened last season,
or that bank levelled the year before ; how this enormous
tree was once brought in somebody’s pocket from abroad,
and those rododendrons grew originally in a hot-house.
We did derive some advantage, however, from having a re-
markably considerate postboy, who stopped at several of
the finest openings, and looked round to observe whether
we honoured the scenery with our approbation. A ro-
mantic little hermitage stands near the approach, built
like a log hut, and sunk so low in the hollow that its roof
was on a level with the carriage road. The hills around
looked likes piles of leaves, and the grass lay in smooth
basins beneath, shrubberies, evergreeneries, and conserva-
tories appeared at a distance, with every thing that consti-
tutes beauty, if we might only have ventured nearer, but
as Macbeth saw the airy dagger forbidding him to advance,
I was haunted with imaginary tickets threatening trespass-
ers with the utmost rigour of the law. When Mr. Vernon
in Yorkshire wished to intimidate all intruders, he put up
a notice the incomprehensible nature of which caused a
7
74 EIILL AND WALLEY.
universal panic among the country people: “Persons
caught strolling in these pleasure grounds shall be spiri,I-
CATED ;” but nothing quite so intimidating stood in our way,
and it might have been worth while to undergo the worst in
so good a cause. After emerging safely at the opposite gate,
delighted to have been such bold lions, we resolved to try
a similar experiment at Chirk castle, which turned out
quite as successful an enterprise. This place well deserves
an effort to see, being more than five hundred years old,
and not very unlike the view given of Glamis castle on
the stage, when King Duncan comes there to be murdered.
A tragedy of similar guilt took place here in the reign of
Edward the II. when Mortimer destroyed his young
ward, heir to this property, and having seized posses-
sion, he built the castle as it now stands. One chief
defect here is, that the building looks rather low in propor-
tion to the breadth, while the old towers are very short for
their age, having the squat and bulky proportion of a
Dutchman. If the propietor could even raise a false story,
though not in every sense to be recommended, it would
greatly improve the external aspect of this castle. A large
open quadrangle is inside, hung with rich draperies of ivy;
the view extends over a magnificent park, where the grass
is like velvet, and the trees trail their long branches down-
wards in such massy clusters, that they might be compared
to the dames of Troy, “whose garments sweep the ground.”
From the windows of Chirk castle seventeen counties are
visible; all so rich that you might be glad to have an es-
tate in any one of them.
The river D followed all the way from Chester, foam-
ing passionately along among the rocks, and its banks
are handsomely trimmed on both sides, with fringes of natu-
ral wood. It flows through Chirk, the parish in which the
celebrated Dr. Sacheverel was formerly settled, and where
he caused a prodigious fermentation. After his obnoxious
HILL AND WALLEY. 75
sermon had been publicly burned by the hangman, he was
suspended for three years, and on his pardon being at last
granted, an escort, consisting of 5000 parishioners, in-
cluding many great proprietors, conducted him home.
Queen Anne is supposed to have favoured his peculiarly high
church sentiments. In truth, he was as high as mount
Vesuvius, and his first effusion of orthodoxy became so
popular that 40,000 copies were sold immediately Mo-
dern authors may envy so rapid a circulation, when even
the successful writer of Mammon has only yet reached the
“14th thousand.” In such primitive times that number
might almost supply a copy for every one who could
read.
Our wanderings now led through one of the prettiest of
all English villages, so peaceful, lovely, and retired, that
it exactly realizes my idea of “sweet Auburn,” before it
was deserted. Ellesmere is particularly distinguished for
the beauty of its bowling-green, curiously placed at the
summit of a ruined old castle, and from whence the view
was truly enchanting. Certainly nothing enlivens a town-
more than having a rendezvous so cheerſul as this little
play-ground, smooth, clean and well preserved like a bil-
liard table ; where the busy inhabitants meet for occasion-
al relaxation, and enjoy so varied a scene of beauty as can
scarcely be excelled ; including distant views of Chester,
Wrexham, the Berwyn Alps and the Wrekin. An exten-
sive piece of water lay beneath, whence arose a sloping
bank crowned by the elegant residence of Mr. Mainwar-
ing, which looks, from this point of view, so large and
handsome, that travellers might suppose one of the Oxford
Colleges had escaped into the country, and planted itself
here.
Our postboy drove at so rapid a rate during the next stage
that he seemed intent on outstripping the railway, while it
appeared almost squandering our enjoyments to flit like
76 HILL AND WALLEY,
lightning through such scenery, thus hurrying over in two
hours what might have agreeably occupied four. At one
place, two pairs of post-horses passed us on the road, with-
out either carriage or riders, but trotting along most dili-
gently, and probably as John Gilpin says
“Right glad the post-horse was to miss,
The rattle at his heels —.”
Some distance afterwards we met the truant postillions,
who had joined a jovial looking party in an open car, and
were proceeding in noisy glee, rather less fit to guide them-
selves than the sober quadrupeds in advance. Further on
was a really ludicrous animal, that Hogarth ought to have
seen. An enormous fat pig, intent upon seeing the world,
had got on his hind legs, leaning his fore-paws over the en-
closure of his sty, in an easy, lounging, observant attitude,
very much as a country shopkeeper may often be seen,
when customers are few, gazing over the half-door of his
warehouse. Gainsborough's first celebrity was gained by
painting a group of pigs, and this ought to have been one
of them.
Not far from Ellesmere we were shewn a large barn, which
Sir Thomas Hanmer lately metamorphosed, by a touch of
his wand, into a handsome church —A tall tower sprung
up at one end, a large ecclesiastical window opened in front,
and the whole is so judiciously done, that many churches
along the road looked much more like barns. The vener-
able Lord Kenyon subscribed an ample endowment, and I
trust a precious harvest will result from such liberality.
The seed thus bountifully sown will bring forth sixty and
an hundred fold; for these Christians did not act in the
spirit of him who said “I will pull down my barns and
build greater.”
From Ellesmere we made an excursion through Oswestry
to Powis Castle, where the ancient princes of Powis reign-
HILL AND WALLEY. 77
ed, and where their descendant, the present Duchess of
Northumberland, spent many of her early days. It seems
like the realization of a romance to enter there, as greater
traces of antiquity remain visible in all directions, than I
ever saw in any inhabited house before. The castle is
known to have existed in 1109, when one of the Welsh
princes forcibly carried off to this place a beautiful lady,
not less celebrated at that time for her charms than Helen
of Troy, though probably rather younger, as it has been
calculated that the Trojan princess was considerably above
fifty when we first hear of her. The heroine in this instance
preserved her youth and beauty during a long period, while
her lover defended himself in Powis Castle, where she found
an asylum during the wars which followed. At length the
founder was himself murdered by his nephew, Prince Madoc,
who contrived to retain possession of the Castle, and to live
undisturbed in times when people acted very much on the
poet’s advice,
Those should take who have the power
And those should keep who cam.
}
We entered this venerable edifice by a paved court, sur-
rounded with stone arches, over which are colossal statues
of St. George and the Dragon, a centaur blowing the trum-
pet of Fame, and various other fabulous subjects in marble.
The walls are ten feet thick, and seem calculated to last as
long as the world continues to grow older. Niches were
excavated, in which original statues have been placed of
Edgar and Offa, the Saxon kings, sculptured in 973, and
most of the rooms are painted on the roof in antique fresco.
As the floors and staircases are slippery enough to be skait.
ed on, we found it a service of some danger to look upwards,
though very amusing, on account of the curious devices
claiming our notice, amongst which was a group intended to
represent the four quarters of the globe in propria persona,
7%
78 - HILL AND WALLEY.
doing homage to the Powis family, conspicuously placed in
the centre. * *
Ladies would cease to do worsted work if they saw
the tapestry at old places, for outline and workmanship
so superior to the best that can now be accomplished, while
at the same time it was discouraging to observe here how
the tints have flown, leaving these fine old gobelins at Powis
Castle nearly colourless. “All that’s bright must fade.”
As ancient tapestry was entirely worked on the wrong
side, an artist’s success could not be ascertained until the
whole piece had been turned with its face upwards. What
an interesting moment must that have been, when the
labour of years was first introduced to surrounding specta-
tors, ready for a burst of admiration and applause.
The ancestors here are handsomer than ancestors in
general, not being so exaggerated as usual in their dress
and attitudes. A former Marchioness of Powis appeared
so beautiful, that any one might fall desperately and hope-
lessly in love with her at first sight. We also admired a
portrait of Lord Castlemain dictating to his secretary, who
appeared really to be listening, his expression was so ani-
mated and intelligent. A very ancient Venus, which hung
there, looked more like Medusa ; and a portrait was shown
of the first blacksmith Vulcan, which looked very unlike
the harmonious one immortalized by Handel, being more
in the style of what may be seen at a forge any day now.
Here were Adam and Eve, too, exceedingly different
from Milton's description, as they both exhibited large
heads, little disproportioned bodies, and long wiry hair, not
attempting any approach to “Hesperian curls.” In this
room was hung the first really beautiful Cleopatra I have
seen. She was dissolving her pearl previous to drinking
it—a traditionary story about which some captious critics
feel rather sceptical, maintaining that no one but an ostrich
could possibly survive swallowing an acid strong enough
HILL AND WALLEY. 79
to melt it ; but I dislike all historical cavils, and never
wish to study either “Dirleton's Doubts,” or those of any
One else. -
A magnificent table of marble patch-work was exhibited,
as brilliant, and nearly as large as a bed-cover, and the
cabinets are beyond description, for they were all covered
up. The long low-roofed gallery is 117 feet in length by
20; and at every step we discovered something interesting
to examine. The chairs were so large and comfortable,
that it rested me only to look at them ; and we observed a
beautiful specimen of Roman enamel, bearing curious an-
tique designs, impossible to be decyphered. All the finery
of modern houses looked like a show of millinery after in-
specting the ancient armour, statues, pictures, frescoes, and
tapestries of the real old nobility; and I gazed with reve-
rence into Queen Anne's wash hand basin, made of iron,
though not feeling anxious to adopt it for every-day use.
A modern abigail would give up her place if not furnished
with a better. The state bed-room has been left like the
great chair at Tillietudlem, quite unchanged since Charles
II. was graciously pleased to sleep there. Not long since
the Duchess of Kent inhabited this apartment, with the
Princess Victoria, who carries about her own bed in her
travelling carriage everywhere, that it may be placed in
the same apartment with that of her royal mother.
From the terrace behind Powis Castle is displayed a val-
ley which must surely excel even the celebrated plain of Da-
mascus. The broad Severn winds its serpentine course
through an undulating park, bounded by richly wooded hills,
and dotted over with massy beeches and gigantic oaks, be-
neath which reposed large herds of deer. Close to the
house is a flight of steps, carved in the solid rock, descend-
ing into a garden, laid out in shelving terraces, divided by
noble yew hedges, and gaudy with flowers. Far distant
stands the town of Welshpool, so called after a pool report-
º
80 HILL AND WALLEY.
ed to be unfathomable ; but tradition carries a long bow ;
and here it is hoped she exaggerates, as an old prophecy
was at the same time promulgated, that this well, which lies
almost invisible in the park, shall hereafter rise up sudden-
ly and inundate the whole country. Such a legend is re-
lated respecting the circumstances which originated the
beautiful Lake of Killarney. It was formerly a rich plain
like this, where the inhabitants were promised permission
to live in peace and safety so long as they never let the sun
shine on the depths of a certain mysterious pool, from
which the neighbourhood became supplied with water.
This must have been an excellent lesson of early rising, as
every villager was necessarily there during morning twi-
light, to secure what might be essential for household pur-
poses, before the mouth of the mysterious well was closed ;
but unfortunately once a young girl lingered behind the rest,
talking to her lover, while she of course forgot to roll a stone
over the pool, till suddenly, when touched by a sun-beam, it
sprung up like a jet d'eau. The stream swept every thing
before it, and never ceased to pour forth in torrents, until
the luckless damsel, with every living creature besides, was
drowned, while before evening the Lake of Killarney reflect.
ed on its broad clear waters the glorious image of a cloud-
less Sun. .
Every one continues partial to the first new country in
which he has performed a tour ; but certainly for richness
of scenery, natural grandeur, and real antiquity, I have
seen no place which can excel Wales, where we had already
enjoyed some pleasant excursions, and were now preparing
to climb up real undeniable mountains, to see the inhabitants
living on Welsh mutton and Welsh rabbits, dressing in
Welsh flannel and Welsh wigs, and listening to Welsh
harpers, the older the better. Formerly there was a “bard
to every mountain ;” and the minstrels used then to meet
annually for a rival display of skill, when the palm of vic-
HILL AND WALLEY, -81
tory was awarded by arbiters whom the king himself ap-
pointed. It must have been rather less noisy than the
Competition of Pipers in Edinburgh ; but equal importance
was attached to success, and crowds attended this exhibi-
tion, “the Esteddfodd,” as it was called, where princes and
poets entered the lists; but now
“No more to chiefs and ladies bright,
The harp of Tara swells”
Soon after our entrance into Wales, we passed an im-
mense new alms-house, built on so large a scale, that it
looked fit for a nobleman’s residence; but, alas ! how dif.
ferently inhabited, for in such a fortress of mendicity, “all
that’s wretched paves the way for death.” Nothing proves
so mournfully the universal tendency of all things to evil,
as the fallacy of what appears a well-planned scheme for
relieving distress; and probably nothing has inflicted more
intense and long enduring wretchedness, than the establish-
ment of such great receptacles as the one we passed here.
Companionship without affection—solitude without peace
—and plenty without contentment:—
“Children who know no parent’s care,
Parents who know no children’s love—dwell there.”
No eyes but those of a poet are worthy to behold the
celebrated valley of Llangollen, where we next proceeded,
after having drawn largely on the firm of Messrs. Words.
worth, Cowper, Thomson, and Co. for language to pay a
due tribute of admiration to this surpassing scene,—but
who has a genius equal to the majesty of nature ? I thought
of the Mahometan who turned back when he observed
some such rich and fertile plain, saying, he had been only
promised one Paradise, and did not wish to enjoy it upon
earth. Instead of following his example however, we ad-
vanced, trying to fancy ourselves on the banks of the
82 IEIILL AND WALLEY.
r"
Rhine, to which so many travellers have compared this
beautiful valley. Pray employ your unrivalled taste in
imagining the rugged mountains,—the sparkling river, -
the ancient trees, the smiling cottages, –the daisied mea-
dows, and the fertile gardens, all grouped or scattered in
the way you think best,--and invention can suggest nothing
more perfect.
“Flow’rs in the valley, splendour in the beam,
Health in the gale, and ſreshness in the stream.”
The busy bees and idle butterflies seemed scarcely hap-
pier than the villagers rejoicing in the brightness and
splendour of the morning. It was so long since any sun-
shine had appeared, that we were all delighted to see our
shadows again, while every tree rung with the melody of
birds, and the wind swept over the hay fields regaling us
with its fragrance. That newly invented complaint in
high life, the hay-asthma, transforms one of our greatest
rural pleasures into a source of distress; but fortunately
the disease seems aristocratic like the gout, and never con-
descends to attack Irish hay-makers, or stable-keepers,
who may with impunity make hay when the sun shines,
which their superiors dare not venture to do. This mala-
dy had not been discovered when Pope and Bolingbroke
held their meetings in the hay-field, or when Thomson
wrote the Seasons,—mais mous avons changé tout cela; as
the malade imaginaire observes.
The valley of Llangollen belonged once to the far-
famed Owen Glendower, mentioned in Shakespeare’s plays,
as “not in the roll of common men.” His palace stood
near this formerly, and here he maintained a war during
twelve years against Henry IV., being a keen adherent
of Richard's ; besides which, a private feud against Lord
Grey de Ruthyn whetted his cxertions. Peace was how-
ever about to be concluded in 1415, between the Welsh
HILL AND WALLEY, 83
chief and the English king, on very honourable terms,
when, as we frequently observe if any one attains his ut-
most earthly desires, Owen died. But though the vale
of Llangollen boasts of such a hero, its chief celebrity
arises from a pair of heroines; and we lost no time in do-
ing homage to their memories, by scrambling our way up
a steep ascent to that well-known cottage, where the late
Lady Eleanor Butler and the Honorable Miss Ponsonby,
during more than half a century, devoted their long lives
so romantically to friendship, celibacy, and rural pleasures.
It seems only astonishing that this is so very rare an occur-
rence, for any one with a friend so richly endowed as my
accomplished correspondent, might feel safe from the pos-
sibility of tiring, and might like to connect her name with
so charming a scene and with so romantic a story. Two
successors to these fair hermits have already sprung up, as
substitutes for the original occupants, following the same
exclusive plan of life; and in a moment of enthusiam I felt
much inclined to knock at the door and ask if they would
make it a trio. In the case of Lady Eleanor Butler and
Miss Ponsonby, very transient visits only were acceptable,
and even their own names remained long concealed, as the
friends eloped clandestinely without confiding to any one,
except a maid servant, the place of their retreat. The
cause of this very close seclusion having been variously
conjectured, excited much gossipping curiosity at the time;
but from whatever cause the hermitage originated, here,
embowered in roses, they “made a solitude and called it
peace.” After discussing the Ladies of Llangollen, our
thoughts naturally diverged into a general consideration,
whether the greatest number of voluntary recluses have
relinquished social intercourse on account of disappointed
aſſection, mortified vanity, or mistaken devotion. So-
ciety ought only to be enjoyed with that moderation which
religious principle and religious prudence require; yet no
84 HILL AND VALLEY.
advantage is gained by existing in a state of monastic
seclusion, neither accordant with the dictates of Scripture
nor of Christian communion. It might be regretted there-
fore, that in all ages individuals, with the best intentions,
forgetting that the root of the evil is within their own
hearts, have fancied their task of circumspection safer
and easier when avoiding general intercourse entirely, ra-
ther than partaking of society with discretion; but reflec-
tion teaches us to coincide in the remark of Milton, who
observes he cannot praise “that fugitive virtue, unexercised
and unbreathed, which never sallies out and sees her ad-
versary, but shrinks away from the race where an immor-
tal garland cannot be run for without dust and heat.”
Persons who live much alone become selfish, positive, and
peculiarly self-complacent; for the different effects of soli-
tude and society are well illustrated by the comparison of
a lake and a river, “In the one, we view the heavens
more distinctly, but seeing also our own image more clear-
ly, are in danger of the sin of Narcissus;–while in the
river, the view both of the heavens and of ourselves is more
broken and disturbed, but health and fertility are scattered
around.” An old lady, being asked once, how she ma-
naged to dispose of her leisure hours, living completely in
solitude, gravely replied, that she always found a great
deal to do “arranging her drawers;” perhaps a less objec-
tionable mode of occupying her time and thoughts, than
many persons adopt in retirement, where those who have
retreated, though often influenced by no better motive
than indolence, may occasionally be heard to say in an
irritable tone of affected superiority, that they “mixed
long enough in society, and never got any good in it.”
The fault is their own, if that given as a restorative amidst
the anxious cares and occupations of life be taken indis-
creetly ; but we owe duties of kindness as well as of bene-
volence, to all without exception, rich as well as poor,
FIILL AND VALLEY. 85
from which no one has a right to shrink; especially if it
nourish up any degree of spiritual pride, a danger far more
insidious in paralyzing the growth of Christian principle,
than all the contamination incurred by uniting a careful
reference to more serious duties, with the relaxation of
heart and mind unblameably enjoyed in well-informed com-
pany. Dangers beset us on all sides, at home and abroad,
on the right hand and on the left; but well-meaning peo-
ple need not act like the British sailors quartered at Con-
stantinople during the plague, who never ventured out un-
less armed with a long stick which they employed in push-
ing aside every person, without distinction, who approach-
ed. The late Lady entertained so morbid a terror of
infectious complaints, that she looked on every person in
her presence as a perfect mine of ſevers, influenzas, agues,
and all manner of diseases; so that if ever obliged to shake
hands with any acquaintance, she instantly changed her
gloves, and always covered the handle of any door which
she had occasion to open, with a pocket handkerchief;
and it is under equally mistaken feelings of apprehension,
that those who live in a very restricted circle, look upon all
beyond it, believing that they themselves are alone purified
by the influence of Divine truth, while with respect to the
many of whom they know nothing, it is gratuitously as-
sumed that there is nothing good to be known. Some
time since, an abigail, who had the prospect of being en-
gaged as attendant on a lady of very peculiar opinions,
produced a high character from her last situation, which
had been given her by one distinguished for every apparent
respect to Christian duty; but it was rejected as “unsatis-
factory,” because her late mistress was “totally unknown
in the religious world !” Where so much spiritual pride
exists, it might almost be charitable to wish that persons
so entirely self-deceived, may become conscious of having
done something which they cannot but acknowledge to be
8
86 HILL AND WALLEY,
wrong, rather than pass all their lives in “thanking God,”
like the Pharisee, that they “are not as others are.”
Everybody has observed, that boys educated at home
commonly become the most arrogant, self-sufficient men in
after life; and the world is a great public school, in which
we are taught to find our own level, or, as Burke said, “often
to strike the very bass string of humility.” Too frequently
persons not rendered diffident, by comparing their attain-
ments with those of others, lose the opportunity of discover-
ing what becomes apparent to most Christians, candidly
estimating themselves by the general standard, that in what-
ever respect they had seemed to excel, many are superior.
Those whose righteousness ought to exceed that of the
Scribes and Pharisees, might often have occasion for sur-
prise, could they but know how little their private conduct
rises above the ordinary attainment of many whose motives
are less exalted. In outward respectability of conduct, in
liberality of alms, in warmth of domestic affection, and even
in the frequency of their prayers, and of their attendance
on public ordinances, the chief evidences by which internal
faith can be estimated in the judgment of others, it becomes
so impossible to discriminate between those with whom the
glory of God is the first of all objects, and those with
whom his service is a mere form, that we learn to cease
from judging each other, while convinced, that only in a
future state of existence, where the secrets of all hearts shall
be laid open, can it be ascertained, who are really “The
religious world.” St. Paul desires men to use this world
as not abusing it, to live “above the world; ” but to live out
of it altogether, he mentions as an actual absurdity not to
be contemplated. Our Divine Saviour was peculiarly so-
cial in his habits upon earth ; and Christians are desired to
become “the salt of the earth ;” but if the salt be withdrawn
entirely, where is its use? The apostle gives us an injunc.
tion, “If any of them that believe not bid you to a feast,
HILL AND WALLEY. 87
and ye be disposed to go;” here many would have anticipated
a prohibition against attending, but, on the contrary, he
takes it for granted that his disciples shall be there, and
adds, “whatsover is set before you eat,” (1 Cor. x. 27.) Our
duty then seems plain; to occupy that place in society for
which, by birth and education we are fitted, endeavouring
in a spirit of Christian humility to benefit by association
with those whose attainments are higher than our own, while
we impart a similar advantage to the few whom we may
consider less enlightened. In heaven, Christians shall have
no intercourse except with redeemed souls, yet there we are
distinctly told that social happiness shall subsist, for our
everlasting home is characterized as “a city,” “a multi-
tude,” a place where “Wisdom crieth aloud in the streets.”
What a beau ideal of earthly felicity springs up to the
imagination in taking a glance at the beautiful cottage of
Llangollen all the every day vexations and vulgar cares of
life, seem there swept aside, and nothing left for the inhabit-
ants but to lead a life of graceſul leisure, tying up carna-
tions, engrafting roses, gazing at the splendid scenery
around, and talking in perpetual ecstacies about flowers and
perfumes. Almost every grown-up person entertains, at
the outset of liſe, notions of happiness with a cottage near-
ly similar to that which a little girl enjoys with her first
doll,—dressing it up, altering, arranging, painting, and
spoiling it; but this hermitage really is a singular looking
toy. The building is long and low, so completely cased in
richly carved oak, that it might be mistaken for an enor-
mous wardrobe. The garden slopes upwards from the
river Dee, and is greatly embellished by a splendid beech
hedge about forty feet high; several charming little summer
houses are sprinkled about the grounds; and in one most ro-
mantic arbour, overlooking the fine cascade, we found a
volume lying open on the seat, which proved to be Sou.
they's Roderick; very suitable reading for such a scene
88 HILL AND WALLEY.
of poetical beauty. An attempt at embellishment has been
made, by placing a stuffed bear near the house, probably
in imitation of the Zoological Gardens; but the idea is
rather a failure, and would appear more suitable over the
door of a perfumer’s shop, to intimate the presence of bear’s
grease. A little gim-crack model of a wooden house is also
visible, by way of an ornament, stuck on the summit of a
wooden pillar, but the effect is disproportioned to all sur-
rounding objects, even more than the designs on Chinese
paper; where men of six feet high are represented entering
mansions half their own height, and birds may be seen flying
larger than either the houses or their inhabitants. In a cot-
tage built of oak and roofed with thatch, it would be very
desirable that the inhabitants should have some taste for
the study of entomology, as they might find an inexhausti-
ble hunting-field among the wooden walls and creepers.
It has been disputed whether more inconvenience is endur-
ed from the extreme cold of an English winter, or from the
swarms of insects inevitably encountered during the heat
of an Italian summer; but those who inhabit this “Fairy
Palace of the Vale,” might be able from experience at home,
to decide the question. They could afford sufficient em-
ployment for an entire steam-manufactory, to supply pins
for all the specimens of insects that might be collected and
classified here. The birds too, were so vociferous, that we
seemed standing in an aviary, and the locality would not
at all have suited Lady , who scolded her gardener for
“letting the sparrows make such a noise under her windows
in the morning.” It is much to be lamented how many
“harmonious blackbirds” annually fall victims to the pre-
servation of cherries; and though the “four-and-twenty
baked in a pie,” might be rather too loud when they all
“began to sing,” yet a few in a garden are so enlivening
and delightful, that it would be better never to taste fruit
again than to lose such a concert of natural melody as we
HILL AND WALLEYs 89
enjoyed at Llangollen. A very successful experiment was
tried lately, for the preservation of seeds and fruit by a gen-
tleman, who, being a great bird-fancier, could not recon-
cile himself to the destruction of these little songsters;
therefore, having discovered a hawk’s nest with several
young ones in his garden, he cut their wings, after which
they all became quite domesticated within the garden walls,
and served as a patrol during several years.
In Scotland, the common expression for a very small
proprietor is “a Bonnet laird;” and certainly there are few
places where it would be more desirable to become a “bon-
net laird” than in the rich valley of Llangollen. Among
So many beautiful objects, one of the most singular is, a
high bare hill, with ridges of rock round the summit, like
gigantic steps of stairs, while the general shape and ap-
pearance seemed strikingly to resemble St. Helena. On
the highest point of this conical mountain are two wells of
water, enclosed within a morsel of an ancient castle, cer-
tainly the merest old rag of a ruin that can be conceived;
and though once it extended 300 feet in length, the whole
is now not much larger in appearance than a fossil elk, or
Some such gigantic animal, standing there in perpetual so-
litude. This apparently insignificant fortress of Dinas
Bran became once an object of lawless ambition, to an
English nobleman, who committed the crime of murdering
his infant ward, as a preliminary step to seizing possession.
It is strange, in recalling such ſar-gone scenes of anti-
quity, to see so palpably exemplified before our eyes, how
transient and insignificant is any success thus dearly pur-
chased, and to reflect that a crime perpetrated with impu.
nity then, and now so nearly forgotten, has yet to be fear-
fully answered for, and will appear as distinctly against its
author on the great day of account, as any sin committed
yesterday,+-for in that respect a thousand years are but as
one day. History relates that this castle descended to a:
8%
§0. HILL AND WALLEY,
Welsh prince, during the reign of Edward I., who consign-
ed him to the guardianship of Earl Warrenne, saying at
the same time, that “if the boy died, he should succeed
to the property.” This hint was clearly understood, and
speedily acted on, for the child did not long get leave to
survive; and the treacherous nobleman having seized pos-
session, obtained, as had been previously stipulated, a war-
rant to retain his ill-gotten acquisition. In 1890, this cas-
tle was inhabited by a celebrated Welsh beauty, who in-
spired some splendid sonnets in her day:-
the bard this brighter Laura sung,
And with his ill-starr'd love Llangollen's echoes rung.
We become cautious of bestowing much sympathy upon
these tuneful and melancholy Petrarchs, knowing that the
Pope, moved by the Italian lover’s lamentations, offered
him a dispensation to marry, which the poet declined, say-
ing he preferred writing sonnets.
It was on one of the precipitous mountains near this,
that Henry II. encamped with a host of English and
French troops, expecting to conquer Wales; but he became
so harassed, by ambuscades and enterprises of the natives,
who intercepted his supplies and annoyed him perpetually,
that his army was at last reduced to extreme destitution.
The king himself narrowly escaped being killed by a Welsh
hero, who aimed an arrow with so much precision, that, if
Hubert de St. Clare had not rushed forward and sacrificed
his own life to save that of Henry, the English monarch
must have been killed on the spot, which would in ſact have
spared him a more grievous fate, when he afterwards
fell a sacrifice to the worst of all diseases—a broken heart,
on account of his children’s misconduct.
At Corwen we spent some time in the little church.
yard, romantically situated beneath a towering cliff. In
so secluded a place, it is pleasing to visit all the departed
HILL AND VALLEY. 91
fathers of the hamlet, and to read the simple inscriptions
placed over “some village Hampdens and Cromwells,” to
whom Grey, in his elegy, would teach us gratuitously to
attribute all the talents and virtues that they might have
possessed. In South Wales, a grave-stone is shown of
rather a formidable character. If any one reads its in-
scription to the end, he dies within a month; but no such
penalty being threatened here, we examined several, which
are all painted black, as if they really sympathised with
surviving mourners. An old man, “spectacles on nose,”
was intently occupied here in chiselling an ancient tomb,
and might have sat for the picture of Old Mortality. In
many cases the only memorial which appeared upon the
grave consisted of a few flowers. When the Welsh people
plant these, they call it “dressing the dead;” and every
Saturday evening the survivors of a family may be observ-
ed busy in cultivating such little tributes of affection, that
the congregation passing to church upon Sunday, may
perceive how carefully and affectionately the absent friend
has been remembered ;-‘E’en from the grave the voice
of nature cries.” There seems to be more life and reality
in the grief thus frequently commemorated, than in the
sorrow represented by cold, unmoveable marble figures
weeping, unvisited and alone. Among the higher ranks,
there is now perhaps rather too much resignation for the
loss of friends. It has, in many cases, degenerated into in-
difference; and even among Christians, the eye of suspi-
cion might often rest upon those who express themselves
ready to rejoice on such mournful occasions;––Christ
set us no such example, when He wept over the grave of
Lazarus; nor did David, when he mourned for Absalom ;
and while implicit submission is both graceſul and right, if
we suffer in our own persons and fortunes, yet grief for
others may, in perfect conformity with the will of God, bo
both deep and permanent. All external evidences of sor-
92 HILL AND WALLEY’a.
row, either in dress or conversation, are falling so rapidly
into disuse among some leaders in the religious and fash-
ionable world, that it will soon be necessary to regulate by
act of Parliament, how long the decencies of life require
mourners to remain secluded after family affliction, or the
very animals will at last seem scarcely more insensible to
the fate of their companions.
Christians can have few more salutary subjects of medi-
tation, amidst such scenes of mortality as the secluded
church-yard at Corwen, than to think how rapidly every
passing year adds to the number of those whose home is
now beyond the grave, and whose memory is yet cherish-
ed with sacred affection, while the rapidly approaching
hour seems to become more welcome, when, “beneath
death’s gloomy, silent, cypress shades,” they shall them-
selves await that period when “time shall be no more,”
and when the grass-grown graves shall restore those
“prisoners of hope” to light and life. It is solemn and
soothing to stand, the living among the dead, and there to
realize the thought of a resurrection, when the captives of
death shall become its conquerors, and when that which
now seems a city of mortality, shall become populous with
re-animated multitudes.
An old soldier, who spent his latter years in firm re-
liance on the gospel of Salvation, used to give an interest-
ing account of his first religious impressions, founded on
such thoughts as these. He served at the Cape of Good Hope
in 1809, during the time when a great earthquake took
place there. It was necessary, during these fearful con-
vulsions which shook the whole city, that the troops should
escape from the tottering barracks; so they marched to a
great square, and bivouacked on the grass all night.
When the morning gun was fired, every soldier sprung up
in his place, each with his large white blanket around him;
and the aged narrator declared that this scene so forcibly
HILL AND WALLEY. 93
brought to mind what he had read in his Bible, when far
from camps, about the resurrection of that great day, when
the dead shall start into life, when the heaving turf shall
open, and the “dry bones live,” that he never afterwards
forgot the salutary impression. -
An ancient stone-cross of considerable size was shown
us in the church-yard at Corwen; and tradition tells, that
a giant from the neighbouring mountain, threw a rock at
this church intending to destroy the sacred edifice, but
the missile, on touching the wall, was instantly transform-
ed into its present shape. We may hope that in more
modern, and less fabulous times, every attempt against the
church will prove as futile. Near this we also observed a
large handsome building, entitled, “A College for the wi-
dows of six clergymen, who had died in possession of livings
in Merionethshire.”—Probably the benevolent testator could
not have selected any class whose poverty, as well as their
worth, deserved more attention; but some time ago, only one
claimant was forthcoming, who had any title to partake of
the benefit, and therefore she obtained permission to enjoy
the whole income in solitary grandeur.
One hill we passed to-day was a perfect blemish to the
landscape, being covered with railways, houses, and smoke;
but as a small consolation for the pain of beholding such
disorder, we were told that the proprietor reaps a harvest
here, more precious than from all its more beautiful neigh-
bours united, as the rent of this one mountain would be
cheap at £1,000 a-year. Something must always be dis-
pensed with in this world, and not many perhaps would, in
such a case, prefer portionless beauty to wealth and de-
formity. Troops of people were gleaning on the corn
fields in this neighbourhood, a cheerful sight, always af.
fording pleasure, especially when we consider that it is
the most ancient custom probably now extant in the
World,—established before the days of Ruth, and subsisting
94 HILL AND VALLEY.
ever since. Some good-natured Boaz must have been Su-
perintending those we passed, for the gleaners seemed so
richly laden, and looked so happy. Any landlord or farmer
is to be pitied who could grudge this tribute to the poor,
though there are unhappily a few wishing actually to with-
hold it, who can scarcely therefore, deserve, or expect,
a blessing on their own increase. Birds and gleaners have
established a right of prescription now over every field, and
the tax should be cheerfully paid.—I never liked scare-
CIOWS. - -
Proceeding onwards, the scenery continued to improve,
until we beheld a perfect “sameness of spendour” through-
out every part. At one place however, near the road, stood
a large, red, brick-house,_a truly ridiculous contrast to
the romantic country in which it was placed, having a
most provoking look of vulgar prosperity, and being lite-
rally dressed in the full uniform of the 98th regiment, scar-
let, with white facings. It would be quite a misfortune
for any one to be left a legacy of such a residence I Pro-
prietors in picturesque situations, should be obliged to build
in a style suited to the scenery; in which case, thatched
roofs would here be universal, and no cottage should
rear its head above one story high. This villa was placed
on the edge of an extensive meadow ; and we amused our-
selves with imagining the inhabitants who probably belong-
ed to such a mansion.—A hospitable old gentleman in top-
boots, who kills his own mutton and brews his own ale;—
a fat good-humoured wife, reckoned a capital manager;--
three daughters, one a beauty, and all accomplished, doing
worsted work, and playing on the piano-forte in perfection;
—the eldest son considered the most promising young man
at Oxford, and Tom, the second, idling at home, while the
whole family are at a loss to guess what profession he
would be least likely to starve in.
One of the best Hotels in this part of the country is,
HILL AND WALLEY. 95
Cernioge, pronounced in Welsh something like Taglioni, a
tolerably good house, situated in a meat garden, with a
considerable piece of water in front. Guests on their ar-
rival might adopt Matthew’s song,
“What have you got for dimmer, Mrs. Bond'!
Give us fish from the larder and ducks from the pond.”
So many travellers were assembled at this place, which
lies on the great Irish road, that it was quite a favour on
the landlord’s part to afford us accommodation. The door
was surrounded by a perfect brigade of carriages; and
in glancing over the different coats-of-arms emblazoned on
them, we could read the names and connexions of some
belonging to the family of Howard. In general, however,
visitors at the inns along this road, are gifted with so
strange a medley of Welsh and Irish designations, nearly
unpronounceable, that, in some cases, when the book was
brought up for inspection, you would have thought that the
alphabet had run mad. It is however consolatory to such
persons, that, fantastic as their names appear, the mean-
ing and derivation of the Boultbees, Tighes, Micklethwaites,
Kavanaghs, Gwynnes, and Cholmondeleys, are not suffi-
ciently obvious to be tortured into a pun ; but no country
can compete with England for the occasional oddity of
surnames;—Admiral Drinkwater, Colonel Coward, Mr.
Toogood, and Mr. Goodenough, the families of Bell-
hangers and Tollers, probably relations,—the Sparrows
and Goslings, are all considered fair game wherever they
go, and must often wish some compassionate friend to
leave them an estate, as a pretext for changing. -
The effect is rather singular of seeing, in large charac-
ters, inscribed over every ale-house and spirit-shop along
the high-road, “By act of Parliament, licenced to be drunk
on the premises;” and whether the people or the spirits are
intended, it would be very desirable if this notice occurred
96 HILL AND WALLEY.
rather seldomer, being not very sparingly taken advantage
of by many. The diet of ale, butter toast, and bacon,
which the common-people indulge very largely in here,
causes them to grow enormously fat; and we passed two
or three real Lamberts, who might have been glad in such
hot weather, to adopt the plan once suggested by a cer-
tain very thin gentleman.—A rather corpulent lady once
inquired, how he managed to look so cool, while every one
else was panting with heat, when he answered, “I leave off
my flesh, and sit in my bones.” If the mental faculties are
very powerful, diet has generally but little influence in ren-
dering people fatter or thinner, because those who laugh
grow fat, whether they eat or not, while others, of an anx-
ious, irritable disposition, like Mrs. , can never be
otherwise than lean and wasted, even though they be fed
up like stalled oxen. As Dr. Johnson, in his parody, judi-
ciously remarked,—“who drives fat cattle should himself
be fat.” We were shown in our travels, some unhappy
prodigies of oxen, fed into deformity and wretchedness, ac-
cording to the present fashion, in order that they may un-
dergo an exhibition at the next agricultural meeting. As
their legs become neither enlarged nor strengthened in pro-
portion to the unnatural weight they carry, these were li-
terally bending underneath the enormous carcase; and it
seems surprising that any merit or advantage should be
imagined in thus producing “such perfect monsters as the
world ne'er saw.” A rather amusing circumstance oc-
curred not long since on this subject.—Some very skilful
farmer, having sent to his landlord a gigantic turnip ;
Lord ——, in an ecstasy of admiration, presented his te-
nant with a beautiful hunter; upon which another success.
ful agriculturist hearing of this extraordinary munificence,
transmitted to his lordship an overgrown ox of proportion-
able dimensions; but the nobleman beginning now to per-
ceive that such an interchange of civilities might prove
F# E LL AND WALLEY, 97
expensive, sent the second donor a gift of the turnip, say-
ing, that having cost him more than the value of an ox, he
hoped it might be considered an equivalent.
Proceeding onwards from Cernioge, one of the strangest
places that can be imagined becomes visible near Bangor.
Nature has everything her own way, and reigns in un-
disputed dominion throughout the pass of Llyn Ogwen, or,
as it is frequently called Nant Frangon, meaning “ the
vale of the beavers,” though not a beaver was visible, ex-
cept those the women wear on their heads. The Welsh
excel much on the score of giving poetical names to every
place,—“The bridge of the united green waters,”—“The
Frosty Hill,”—“The Hollow of Woe,”—“The Cataract
of the Swallow,”—and “The Stone of Lamentation,” are
all most expressive designations, but nothing could convey
an adequate idea of the wild, tumultuous scene we now en-
tered. Foxes abound in these hills, though it would require
Some Macadamizing to make this a good hunting country;
and few horsemen are such enterprising riders as Colonel
E* M. P., who is alleged to have pursued a fox over the
loftiest peak of Snowdon without dismounting ! 3571
feet high Melton Mowbray, hide your diminished head
The pass of Nant Frangon looks as if this part of the
world had been left unfinished, and that its naked ribs were
waiting to be clothed; for not a trace of vegetation is vi.
sible amidst surrounding desolation. The lake of Llyn
Ogwen lies within a circle of tall, rocky, bare mountains,
and it exactly realized my conception of the Dead Sea on
a smaller scale, so dark, deep, and silent, while a gigan-
tic belt of barren hills must prevent the sun from shining
upon its bosom. Not a tree or a cottage enlivened its mar-
gin,_-and as no living creature became visible, we may ima-
gine, to complete the resemblance, that no bird would fly
across its melancholy surface.—In short, the whole aspect
of this place is a perfect tragedy. A goat would find some
9
98 HILL AND VAILEYo
difficulty in standing on the hill sides, even if vegetation
tempted him ; but as the mountains are all composed of
loose stones and gravel, the ascent is rendered so difficult,
that probably not a dozen of people have been at the trouble
to surmount their summits since the beginning of time.
Formerly, on the top of Y Tri Vaen, the highest of these
rocky pinnacles, might be seen three gigantic stones stand-
ing upright, presenting so much the appearance of soldiers
on the look-out, or of travellers with a guide, that tourists,
unaccustomed to measure objects by the rule of perspective,
have often been known to forget the diminishing distance
of a mountain top, while they waited and watched, expect-
ing these supposed human figures to move, or even fancy-
ing that they had done so.
It is truly observed that the only two things in nature
which make no return for benefits received, are a bare
mountain top, and a proud ungrateful disposition, both
“high and stately, but barren.” By an extraordinary effort
of scientific skill, a celebrated chemist succeeded in
melting whin-stones, like those we saw here; but the heart
once cold and hardened, is beyond all reach of human
means to soften or renew, yet if the dew descend from
above, and the seed be sown aright, the tender herb may
spring up on either, and the “barren hills rejoice and
blossom as the rose.”
The proprietor of this valley must find his rents rather
low, unless he receives them in kind, and then they might
be levied by the stone weight; but his case is very diffe-
rent from a Scotch landlord who owns the hill of Cairn-
gorum, and is said to receive £100 a-year for the privi-
lege of searching among the rocks and in the beds of the
stream, to discover those celebrated stones, which ladies
wear as necklaces, and gentlemen cut into seals, and Lord
uses for the handles of his dinner knives.
This valley of Nant Frangon would have suited admira-
EIILL AND WALLEY. 99
bly in the Pilgrim’s Progress, for Giant Despair to hold
his court in ; or else one of Mrs. Radcliffe’s robber scenes
might have been admirably got up here. Probably Owen
Glendower and his troops often lurked behind the precipi-
ces, hurling down rocks upon the English troops as they
passed through this narrow gorge, and then burying their
slaughtered foes in the dark, inky, pool beneath. A po-
etical friend who had joined us here, being much diverted
to observe the impression made upon me by the desolation
of Llyn Ogweapool, obligingly extemporised the sort of
poem which a lady might be supposed in a frenzy of admi-
ration, in such scenes, to indite. Unfortunately this bril-
liant specimen of his powers as an Improvisatore escaped
my memory as fast as it escaped from his imagination ;
but the two first lines were so grand and impressive, as not
to be easily forgotten :-- e
“Ye mountains Welsh, who boldly rise,
How does my eye your beauties prize l’’
Some eminent poet may perhaps be able, in a moment of
inspiration, to add a few stanzas, worthy to complete this
very striking commencement.
I shall conclude without indulging in any disparaging
remarks on the tediousness of this letter, as professions of
humility are the offspring of vanity and egotism; but if
you tire, do not forget our friend’s plan, who travelled
through a long letter by short stages, and always stuck a
needle in at the paragraph where she stopped, to avoid the
possibility of recapitulating her task.
100 HILL AND WALLEYe
CHAPTER VII.
“’Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,
Still, be it ever so humble, there's mo place like home !”
My DEAR Cousin, You would scarcely believe that there
is so much happiness in this world as we enjoyed to-day,
of which I wish a share could be imparted to you on paper,
by describing all we have seen, felt, thought, said, and
done here. You once gave up drawing in despair of ever
making a straight stroke, and I fear my attempts to paint
with pen and ink will prove equally unskilful and defective;
but, as the young lady said who was asked to copy a por-
trait of Vandyke's, “I shall do my best P’
Poetry is proverbially deceitful, and many a disappoint-
ed tourist has thought that Moore should be plunged in at
the Meeting of the Waters, for having so completely over-
stated their charms ; but if his muse were to celebrate the
beauties of Bangor, even that eloquent pen could scarcely
be accused of going to excess ; as this neighbourhood may
truly be called the Paradise of Wales.—Nature has here
used her brush in a masterly style, and for boldness of
outline and splendour of colouring, the landscape could
scarcely be excelled either by Thomson or Turner. This
view has been thought very much to resemble the magni-
ficent scenery at Goa, wanting nothing but the Inquisition,
which, with O’Connell's leave, we can perfectly well spare,
at present.
Upon reaching the Penrhyn Arms, a truly splendid hotel,
we were shewn into a large, handsome drawing-room, with
a bay window, commanding the most varied and beautiful
extent of country which can be imagined. Considering
HILL AND WALLEY. 101
there are but four natural materials to furnish a landscape,
—earth, wood, water, and rocks, it certainly seems asto-
nishing how diversified is the effect every-where produced;
and in no place do we see exhibited so countless a variety
of objects, as from our station at the window of Bangor
Inn, where we stood transfixed for nearly an hour, enjoying
a degree of pleasure with which it was impossible to feel
satiated. On our right stood the precipitous hill of Pen-
manmawr, rising 1500 feet abruptly out of the sea, and va-
ried at its base by the beautiful park and splendid castle of
Penrhyn. Before us lay a charming garden belonging to
the hotel, scattered over with parterres of roses, and with
gay groups of visitors, the ground sloping towards a bright
foaming sea, which washed up to the very margin of the
grass, while tufts of beautiful trees grew so close to the shore,
that we might almost have looked for oysters on their
branches. Beyond, rose the Isle of Anglesey, like some
bright gem in the distance, with the pretty town of Beau-
maris glittering on the nearest point, while the bay looked
as brilliant as a rainbow under the evening sun, which
slanted across its waves, lighting them up with constantly
varying tints of green and gold. A fairy fleet of vessels
flitted about like butterflies on the water, being, as artists
say, “a lucky incident” in the landscape. The whole
was bounded by a magnificent tiara of lofty mountains;
and to complete the enchantment, a band of music played
during the whole evening under our window. Does any
one wish for perfect happiness —let him spend an hour
in gazing at this landscape, and the receipt must be infal-
lible. A taste for enjoying the beauties of Bangor is cer.
tainly very prevalent, as our landlady, Mrs. Bicknell, who
has since realised a large fortune and retired, told us on
this occasion, that she could make up 130 beds, and her
house continued to be nearly full while we remained. In-
cluding the post-boys, waiters, and maids, eighty servants
9%
102 IIILL AND WALLEY,
are in attendance at the Penrhyn Arms, to whom our hos-
tess inſormed us that she gives an annual Christmas dinner
in the kitchen, where she presides hersclf, and probably pro-
poses appropriate speeches and toasts. At many great
houses now the housekeeper has orders to prevent any Ser-
want on the establishment from speaking a word during
meals; but Mrs. Bicknell does not ſorbid the intellectual
feast on these occasions to be cnjoyed with that more sub-
stantial one which she provides for her dependents. In cvery
one of the bed-rooms a Biblo is laid on the dressing-table;
and in several of the sitting-rooms a piano-ſorte forms part
of the furniture. A lady one day, while we were there,
played Weber’s waltz in her own apartment, and was as-
tonished to hear another perſormer, whom she did not know,
strike up an accompaniment in the next room. The musi-
cians continued their duet for some time afterwards, though
their intercourse was like that of Pyramus and Thisbe, only
through the key-hole.
No ordinary has yet been established here, though the
concourse of distinguished persons who assemble in suc-
cession during the summer, and spend some time on their
way to Ireland or clisewhere, might render the table d’hole
nearly as much frequented as at Harrogate, and perhaps
rather more select. It was curious every day while we
remained, to meet the same strangers in the garden, all
admiring the same scenery that we did, and listening to
the same music, yet never approaching in the smallest degree
towards acquaintance. After a few days, we know each
person’s favourite walks—could sce what tunes from the
band he preſerred—missed any one who did not come out
at his usual hour for promenading—and tired of all the la-
dies’ dressCs without knowing onc of their names. How
different it would have been on the Continent, where the
whole party might have become intimate ſriends for the
passing hour ; but after a week's residence at Bangor, I
XIII, L ANT) VALLEY. 103
may write to you as the two students did from college, “I
know nobody but Tom, and Tom knows nobody but me.”
We amused our leisure, however, by conjecturing the rank
and profession of a great many, according to their external
appearance. The major, the colonel, the widow, and the
heiress, were all among our dramalis persona, though the
comedy proceeded in durmb show, as we merely saw cars and
gigs full of anonymous people going out on parties of plea-
sure in the morning, and returning at night, worn out with
enjoyment, while we were ourselves not idle. -
Conveyances belonging to Mrs. Bicknell, of various hues
and dimensions, seem almost as numerous here as at the house
of Mr. , the rich and ostentatious proprietor who used
to tell his guests, when requested to lend a carriage, “that
they might have one of any colour they preferred,” and
who was heard calling once to his servant, “bring some
more phaetons.” *
The first day at Bangor must inevitably be devoted to
the black marble Castle of Penrhyn, recently built by Mr.
Pennant, with magnificence worthy of those old feudal
times, when great men kept troops of retainers, and lived
in a patriarchal way, having all their sons, their sons’
wives, and their families, domesticated in the house. Now,
a very large house is seldom filled above once or twice in
a year, looking cold and desolate at all other times; there-
fore it can scarcely create surprise that few such orna.
mental palaces as this are built in the present day. The
park is surrounded by a high massy wall—the gates so
strong that those of Newgate are a joke to them—and the
castle itself used to be more inaccessible to intruders than
any enchanted palace in the Arabian Nights; but being
equally well worth seeing, several amusing anecdotes might
be told of the bribery and intimidation, vainly attempted,
to overcome a little old woman's vigilance, who garrisoned
the fortified gateway, and used yearly to repulse an army
104 EIILL AND WALLEY.
of assailants, who tried stratagem and assault without suc-
cess. Fortunately Mr. Hopper was the architect here,
for he not only fulfilled all the proprietor's splendid inten-
tions in building this residence, but he also, some months
ago, supplied us with an order to see it; and therefore af.
ter our credentials had been carefully scrutinised, we
triumphantly advanced to take possession; while my ex-
pectations, which had been growing and expanding for
months past, in anticipation of seeing this superb place,
were amply gratified. Some people, by no means to be
envied, seem to have been born with such conceptions of
every thing, that they live all their lives in a state of
ceaseless disappointment, while nothing ever equals their
hopes, or fulfils their wishes. Such persons may be en-
countered who have been shut up all their lives in a coun-
try village, and would yet see Burleigh or Penrhyn for the
first time, without a single exclamation of admiration or
surprise, while others more excitable would exhaust the
whole gamut before they had penetrated beyond the en-
trance-hall.
In general, young houses attempting to look old are
nearly as ridiculous as old people attempting to look
young; but that is not the case here; for this is almost
the only modern castle which has really succeeded in put-
ting us back some centuries, by equalling the solid magni-
tude of those which have descended to us from our fore-
fathers. A stranger’s eyes should have no lids to them,
from the moment he approaches to lionize this building,
which has already cost a million of money, and on which
neither time nor expense have been spared, to give it, both
outside and within, the venerable air of antiquity—to “add
the grace which time alone can give,”—and to raise a house
calculated to stand as long as the world continues to exist. .
The exterior of Penrhyn Castle looks already like a ruin,
from the extreme irregularity of its outline, and the fine
IIILL AND WAT, LIEY. 105
dark colour of the marble, so that with a few tasteful dra-
peries of ivy, it might soon appear almost uninhabitable.
Oliver Cromwell and his army were great promoters of the
picturesque, and you might suppose that here, as well as
in older castles, they had put the finishing touches to its
walls, though these are five feet thick. The entire build-
ing covers an incredible extent of ground, and the keep
tower rises to so gigantic a height, that it must command
a magnificent view of the surrounding country; but the
inconveniences of antiquity have been copied here as well
as its beauties, and small windows being characteristic of
former days, they are rather less in proportion to the rooms
than might be desirable; for light is a necessary of exist-
tence now, though not apparently so to our ancestors, and
as the Irishman said, it is more convenient to live in a
cheerful house than in an uninhabitable castle.
Our first entrance was at a low narrow door resembling
that of a mausoleum, where a priest might have been read-
ing the burial service,—it looked so much like the vaulted
crypt of a cathedral. We then proceeded into the steward's
room, which gave us an earnest of coming magnificence,
as the doors, wainscoats, and presses, were all made of
handsomely carved oak. After having inscribed our name,
style and titles, in the visitor’s book, wishing they had
been more illustrious, we proceeded to open the eye of ob-
servation, and to tread on the tiptoe of caution. It is
sometimes rather provoking in a splendid shew-house like
this, when the housekeeper carefully lifts up a small corner
of the brown linen cover on a sofa, displaying three inches
of damask, and a morsel of fringe, with a look as much as
to say, “you never before saw any thing that could be
compared with this ſ” but on the present occasion her
countenance expressed what came so very near the truth,
that it seemed quite unnecessary to assume any air of
dignified indifference, as nothing can exceed the taste and
106 EIILL AND WALLEY.
splendour by which we were now surrounded. A foreign
young lady, not many years ago, visiting Sir Walter Scott,
exclaimed, turning to him in a burst of enthusiasm and
delight, “I should like for one day to consider myself mis-
tress of Abbotsford P’ upon which the baronet laughingly
observed aside, that if her reign lasted no longer he could
not object. In the same spirit we resolved for one single
hour to indulge a similar pleasant mistake at Penrhyn Cas-
tle, only sorry that, like Abon Hassan, the agreeable illu-
Sion must at last be ended. - -
“The dream deceives mot when the man’s awake.”
The drawing-room seems beautifully proportioned, the
roof arched over with oak and gold, the sides all pannelled
with the same, and the largest mirror ever made in this
country is suspended on the wall, looking very much as if
the upholsterer had framed the bay itself, and hung it up.
Some friend had previously described the sofa-covers as
being like “birds of paradise on white satin,” which may
give an adequate idea of their brilliancy. The organ
seems fit for a cathedral—the carpet, an acre in extent, is
quite a kaleidoscope of brilliant colours—the chimney-piece
is of Penrhyn marble—even the footstools would be worth
describing, but they must be consigned to the pen of Mr.
Hope, the poet-laureate of furniture. Nothing is wanting
now but that indescribable look of comfort which an inha-
bited drawing-room gradually assumes, when groups of com-
panionable looking albums and work-boxes scatter them-
selves miscellaneously about—when the chairs and sofas
“stand at ease,” as if they were occasionally sat upon,
and when the tables no longer seem to have taken root in
the walls beside which they are planted, but advance near
the fire, carrying keepsakes and annuals to vary their po-
lished surfaces. - - --
It is impossible to pass through the grand entrance-hall
HILL AND WALLEY. 107
at Penrhyn, without a word upon the beautifully sculptured
pillars and roof, which might be examined with a micro-
scope, the carving is so minute, while every pattern appears
different. The whole looked as if done in blanc-mange,
or in Ayrshire needle-work. It was entirely executed by
a common stone mason, who has likewise sculptured a row
of heads round the cornice of one room, exhibiting the ge-
nius and humour of a Hogarth. Every countenance bore
a different expression, some laughably grotesque, others
grinning or gnashing their teeth at us with rage; and yet
scarcely one was there for which a likeness might not have
been found in every-day life. Round the roof of a different
room is an admirable imitation of the antique, exhibiting
various groups and figures, exceedingly well executed, and
conceived with much drollery, amongst which were mon-
keys devouring each other, cats with two tails, scorpions
stinging themselves to death, fish vomiting smoke, and
many such strange devices, to decypher which will often
amuse idle visitors. -
The library is a singularly elegant apartment, divided
by three arches of oak, and lighted by a spacious window,
which looks as if there might really be room to breathe at
it. Large as the dimensions are, however, there seemed
in proportion such a scarcity of accommodation for books,
that it was almost as fatal an omission as the artist’s who
painted a picture of the deluge and forgot to put in any
water. Here, however, no inducement exists to supply the
vacancies with false books, as is done at Eaton Hall, a
practice greatly to be discouraged by all authors.
A plan has been recently introduced, of hanging up li-
brary paper, to represent the backs of books, handsomely
gilt and lettered. It takes up less room, and is perhaps
quite as useful as the real volumes, since no reader ever
opens any work that he has been long in the habit of seeing
on a shelf. In the specimen we saw of this representative
108 HILL AND WALLEY.
library, the titles were so attractive, that it would really be
rather lamentable if they are never actually written. All
book clubs would be ready at Önce to order, “Rough Notes,
by the Man in the Moon,”—“Thaw on Tropical Icebergs,”
—“An Essay on Hobby Horses,”—“Infallible Remedies
for all Complaints,”—“A Treatise, in five volumes, on the
Greenland Sugar Cane,”—and a “Dissertation on the
pleasures of the Toothach.” It is related of an old High-
land laird, that, when fitting up a library, he desired his
bookseller to forward three boxes of “little books for the
upper shelves, and big books below ;” but when this very
general order was duly executed, some volumes being con-
siderably too tall for the accommodation prepared, he made
a carpenter saw four inches from the top of each, and then
forwarded a second order to bespeak “three feet square of
divinity.” The empty shelves we saw in this future li-
brary, will soon probably be filled with more careful dis-
crimination than that exerted by the laird of Bonnymoon,
and the volumes not shortened by so summary a process;
though many modern books, containing “a rivulet of type
in a meadow of margin,” might be advantageously curtail-
ed of half their bulk, being also apt in another respect to
resemble Lord Byron’s description ;-
“Books there are with mothing fraught;
Ten thousand words, and ne'er a thought.”
Two small rooms, or rather closets, form wings to the
library;-little brown-studies for students who wish to read
in real earnest,-and these retreats are so extremely snug,
that they might pass for cells in a convent.
At Penrhyn Castle the bed-rooms are so elegant that no
one will be able to sleep for admiring them. Several of
the beds are composed of black marble, handsomely carved
like tombstones, and enlivened with brilliant silk hangings.
In each dressing-room, instead of a window-seat, a bath is
EIILL AND WALLEY. 109
placed, with pipes of hot and cold water perpetually ready ;
and any one who coincides with Bonaparte, that “an hour
in the bath is worth several hours of sleep,” might have
felt tempted to step into one of these on the spot, -they
looked so very inviting. It is to be hoped the progress of lux-
ury and comfort will at last introduce this indulgence into
every house and dressing-room in England.—What splen-
did remains are yet to be seen of Roman baths Bathing
is universally practised every morning now in Mahometan
countries, and we read of its being very prevalent in the
days of Queen Elizabeth, who had her own bath-room
wainscotted with mirrors; but the luxury probably fell into
comparative disuse, when superstition caused those who de-
sired a pre-eminent reputation for holiness, to emulate each
other in the filthiness of their persons as well as of their
dress.
We were shown a very handsome room, entirely fitted
up with black marble and ebony, to be inhabited proba-
bly when the family are in mourning; even the very ink-
stands were carved in the universal material—black mar-
ble-which renders them so heavy, that the utmost exer-
tion of any person’s strength is required to lift one off the
table.—What then must be the weight of the whole house !
The little private chapel tries to look as much like a ca-
thedral as possible, and presents a great appearance of so-
lemnity and dignity, considering the moderate size to which
it is necessarily limited.—The windows are of coloured
glass, representing the four evangelists, beautifully painted
by Willment in London. Roman Catholics, to account for
our possessing likenesses of those early Christians, always
maintain that St. Luke was a painter as well as a physi-
cian ; but though we have seen so many pictures from sa-
cred subjects, that the aspect of each apostle seems fami-
liar to fancy, yet their features must be imaginary. Por-
traits were not then so common as lately,–when a certain
10
II.0 HILL AND WALLEY,
popular preacher in England presented his own likeness to
each member of his congregation; and in every house now,
the bust, or the print is suspended, of some favourite pulpit
orator. This savours rather of that spirit which says,
“I am of Paul and I am of Apollos ;” for too often, an ad-
miration, amounting to enthusiasm, may be felt for virtue
and talent, which rests only on the possessor, without reach-
ing the great Giver of all. In nothing is the subtility of
Satan more exercised towards both pastor and people, than
by causing that intense admiration of mere eloquence, which
draws a train of rapturous admirers, to listen with fervent
excitement, too often mistaken for pure devotion. Thus
a gifted preacher, who begins with directing a single eye
to the glory of God, is too often gradually led to seek the
praise of men;–while those who at first attended for edi-
fication, do so at last from personal regard to their teacher.
Such feelings, however amiable, require to be kept in strict
subordination.—It has been well observed by a modern au-
thor, that nearly all Roman Catholic superstitions arise
from the better feelings of nature going to a wrong excess.
The Pope's infallibility is merely an exaggeration of that
extreme enthusiasm, which each individual feels for his own
favourite monitor; and our irresistible tendency to magnify
the virtues of those who are departed, led at last to the wor-
ship of saints.--All such considerations should lead us to
remember that warning in sacred Scripture, “take heed
how ye hear.”
It is pleasing whenever we find, in private houses, as at
Penrhyn Castle, an altar raised to God.—Nothing rivets
family attachments half so securely, as meeting every morn-
ing to pray for each other, when every petty difference
must at once be laid aside, and every misunderstanding
forgotten before the sun goes down. What can be more
pleasing also, than for the absent to know precisely at what
hour they are remembered with the supplications and bless-
HILL AND WALLEY, 111
ings of an affectionate circle ; while those who remain to-
gether, can enjoy no greater solace than in following them
with prayers, and uniting on their own account, in the ex-
pression of every anxiety, or pleasure, or sorrow, which
each shares in common with all the others. There is in-
deed no pleasure more to be prized than that of raising
a family altar, where those shall daily assemble on earth who
hope hereafter to re-assemble in heaven—and “not a wan-
derer be lost.”
When about to leave this charming house, full of grati-
tude for the entertainment afforded us, we passed through
the dining-room, where prodigious tables of oak-root, un-
usually long and wide, seemed to promise ſuture hospitality;
and a gentleman of our party took his station for some
minutes at the bottom of the table, where he made an elo-
quent speech, proposing the proprietor's health, accom-
panied by a suitable panegyric. We rather missed the
wine and applause, but this oration was sufficiently animat-
ed to be deserving of both, and the meeting soon after broke
up. It was rather a relief when the civil housekeeper at
last announced that nothing more was to be seen, our whole
vocabulary of exclamations having been long since exhaust-
ed; and we now walked home, our heads filled with stucco,
while we raved for an hour about Gothic bed-steads,-
antique ottomans,—sculptured marble, and the whole para-
phernalia of comfort and magnificence ; but admiring
above all, the commanding situation of Penrhyn Castle,
which wants nothing but well-grown wood to be perfect.
Proprietors build for their own comfort, but plant only for
future generations; unless on the plan adopted by Mr.
Hunter of Auchterarder, who brought to his park a ready
made forest, and travelled it along the road, like Birnam
wood coming to Dunsinane. Lord Lyndoch also issued
the word of command once, in obedience to which, a per-
fect regiment of evergreens came, by forced marches, from
112 EIILL AND WALLEY.
London to Perthshire, where they may still be seen shoot-
ing vigorously. Some such plan should, if possible, be
adopted by the proprietor here, who might with advantage
try Sir Henry Steuart's plan, and “jump” a few oaks from
Richmond Park or Windsor Forest, that they may reign
supreme among the thriving young family of forest trees
here, most of which are completely over-topped by the
keep-tower. This has one advantage, that the landscape
will not be easily intercepted by surrounding foliage, as is
the case in some fine places, where a complete screen con-
ceals the grander features at a distance, especially in the
north, shelter being such a primary object there, that
houses often seem perfectly suffocated with beeches and
elms, instead of enjoying the extensive prospects beyond.
The trees and the house here are of somewhat the same
comparative calibre as at an old place in Scotland, where
the offices form a remarkably ugly object viewed from the
drawing-room windows, though the proprietor positively
asserts that they cannot be seen, because they are planted
out !—the said plantation not looking yet much higher than
a potatoe-field. The deficiency at either place, however,
is one which becomes less obvious every year; for, we
may say of the trees here, as the late Marquis of Abercorn
answered, when complimented by George III. on his oaks
growing so rapidly, “They have nothing else to do.”
At Allanton, the same set of trees used always to be
obligingly transplanted, when any one came there who ex-
pressed a curiosity on the subject; and never was known
in the world before such a life of activity as those unfor-
tunate beeches led,—no sooner comfortably settled in one
spot, than they were danced off their feet again to another.
Proprietors who like to move about themselves, and cannot
even take root at their own places, would only in a simi.
lar case be doing as they wish to be done by. It seemed
a singular coincidence, that among all the beautiful resi.
HILL AND WALLEY, 113
dences we had the pleasure of lionizing, there occurred not
one where the family were actually residing, though this
was the season of the year, above all others, advantageous
for enjoying them;-but while thus admiring their beauties
for the passing moment ourselves, and flying from one es-
tate to another with such exquisite pleasure, the traveller
might be reminded of Goldsmith’s delighted exclamation, in
similar circumstances, “Creation’s heir the world—the
world is mine !”
As we walked home, beneath a gloomy sky, and in a
down-pour of rain, any ordinary tourists would have given
up the rest of the day for being irreclaimably bad; but
travellers who cultivate a habit of expecting to enjoy the
weather most desirable, may probably not always be dis-
appointed. A farmer, delighted with a very fine harvest
season, once remarked, that he could scarcely make a better
Summer himself, had he the sun in one hand and a watering-
pot in the other. We were almost equally satisfied, though
enduring the temporary shower that fell now, as it only
added a zest to the brilliant clearing-up which followed
some hours after. Being resolved, during our tour, to
leave not a crevice unexplored, nor a stone unturned in
Wales, we lost no time in entering one of Mrs. Bicknell’s
light open cars, with our umbrella, as soon as we reached
the inn, and setting out in search of the picturesque, all
around the neighbourhood of Bangor, while endeavouring
to direct the eye of observation, and to point the finger of
taste at whatever became visible along our route.
10*
114 HILL AND , WALLEY,
CHAPTER VIII.
Away, away to the mountain's brow,
Where the trees are gently waving:—
Away, away to the mountain bro w,
Where the stream is gently laving.
My DEAR Cousin,_How entertaining it is to see the
various views which different individuals take of life and
its objects.-I met with a young lady lately, who seemed
to wonder that any one could wish to live who had not a
well-shaped hand; of course, her own was beautiful, though
most of her time seemed to be occupied in contemplating
it; others evidently breathe in a perfect atmosphere of
music,+many devote their entire existence to worsted
work,+and some appear as if they only lived to eat and
sleep; but in Wales, the whole business and pleasure of
women, old or young, seems to consist in knitting ; and
_they must certainly wear more stockings than any other
race of people, if all we saw in progress are ever worn out.
None are to be seen without their work, which, from con-
stant habit, might almost be done in sleep. When walk-
ing along the high-roads, every peasant seems so intent on
her stocking, that she might as well be blindfolded for any
notice she takes of her path ; and this may account for
those who are actually sightless, being able to find their
way about with extraordinary facility. One remarkable
instance of this we saw at Betws y Coed, where a poor
woman ran along beside our carriage at full speed, holding
up her hat to the window, during at least half-a-mile, with-
out our discovering that she was blind. We were after-
wards told at the inn, that she accompanies the mail every
day, in a similar manner, begging for charity, and some-
EIILL AND WALLEY. 115
times even scrambles to the top while it continues in rapid
progress;–she then circulates her hat all round for con-
* tributions, after receiving which, she descends again with
equal activity. -
All women among the lower orders in Wales, wear
men's hats over muslin caps, and a long blue cloth cloak,
which gives them, at some distance, the air of ladies a mo-
ment before dismounted from horseback. Many were rid-
ing on spirited little Welsh ponies, like exaggerated mice,
they seemed so diminutive in proportion to the fair eques.
trians themselves, and at the same time so extremely ill-
broken, that often at the sight of an equipage they started
aside with a spring that might have dismounted a cavalry
officer, though the fair riders kept their seats with admira-
ble dexterity. One of these peasants rode as gracefully on
her mountain-pony, as if she had been taught by Colonel
Letham ; but when we first set out, several whom we pass-
ed in succession, either went off the road entirely into the
nearest field, or alighted and led their horses past ; conse-
quently we began to compare ourselves with the Russian
autocrat, who promulgated a law that riders must all de-
scend to the ground whenever his imperial carriage came
in sight.—The young women seem so constantly at work
that they are seldom to be met, but we passed an unusual
succession of very aged people, till a stranger might almost
have fancied, that all the women in Wales were old. One
whom we met on the road, being asked her age, replied,
“only 80 !”
The children here seem universally addicted to begging,
as in Ireland, and they are taught to modulate their voices
in a very peculiar cadence, which sounds extremely profess-
ional, without exciting so much compassion as a more na-
tural tone would do. They never seem to lose breath, sur-
rounding the carriage like a swarm of midges, and pursuing
it with noisy vociferation, which sounds incessantly in the
116 EIILL AND WALLEY.
ear like some troublesome tune, long after they are depart-
ed. The fisheries in this part of Wales are so productive,
that the poor might be abundantly provided with food; but
the sea is always their last resource, and the treasures of
the deep have never been in great request at Bangor. The
farmers in many instances allow industrious families to
cultivate a field of potatoes, for which they are allowed,
as a remuneration, every alternate ridge—an admirable
plan of benevolence for affording both food and occupation.
In Holland a prodigious refuge has been established for the
destitute, upon a scheme somewhat similar to this. A vast
extent of waste land is set aside for the purpose, upon
which any person proved to be perfectly destitute may build
a hut for himself, and cultivate a garden. These squatters
have been known, in many instances, to realize, by honest
persevering industry, a very comfortable subsistence. We
were amused at one place, during our drive, conversing
with a poor man, who scarcely understood English, and
was busily occupied in digging his garden. One of our
party accidentally picked a gooseberry, upon which the
worthy peasant flew to a bush, tore off as many as he had
time to scramble together, and instantly presented them
to our friend on a cabbage leaf. Amongst the whole col-
lection only one seemed ripe, upon which it was rather un-
handsomely remarked, that this little incident might be
viewed as a complete exemplification of the national cha-
racter, “simplicity, kindness, and stupidity.” Whole na-
tions are often judged by travellers, who generalize on not
much better premises, when “dunce the thousandth writes
like dunce the first ;” and every one has heard of the tour-
ist who spent one day in Poland, where he saw a noble.
man patting a bear, therefore he put down in his note-book,
“people of consequence in Poland usually amuse them.
selves during the morning with bears.” As Cuvier could
describe the size, form, and habits of any fossil animal mere.
EIIL’ſſ, AND WALLEY. 117.
ly from examining a tooth, so with equal apparent decision
a whole country is characterised by those who know no-
thing but the high-roads and inns, of which this letter may
perhaps be thought a flagrant instance. -
In every direction along the Welsh roads we were sur-
rounded by poor people setting traps for money, and wish-
ing to sell specimens of lead and copper ore, or baskets of
plums and apples; but it would have been difficult to say
whether the fruit or the stones were hardest. No omnibus
could have been found capable of carrying all that travel-
lers are expected to purchase during a progress through
Wales; and it might have exhausted a copper mine to pay
for one-half of the marble ink-stands, worsted stockings,
knitted gloves, Snowdon diamonds, copper ore, lead, flowers,
and fruit, successively thrust in at our carriage window,
with an insinuating smile of entreaty, and an appeal in
Welsh to our benevolence and taste. It was the greatest
exertion of self-denial to shew that we possessed neither, by
refusing to accept what we had no possibility of carrying
away or using. - - &
At one place on the road, we passed the funeral of two
infants. The little coffins being borne by women, and sus-
pended on white ribbons, with frilled muslin ‘shrouds, we
thought at first they were two cradles, though the mistake
could not last long, on account of the mournful counte-
nance and solemn face of the bearers, which told the affect.
ing truth, that these young twins were cut off at the very
threshold of existence, and after but tasting the bitter cup
of sin and sorrow, had been called to sleep in Jesus, and to
enter through His mediation into a state of everlasting
peace. The tenderest Christian mother might almost learn
to rejoice, or at least to be resigned, while deploring this
most affecting of all earthly privations, when she considers,
that without the previous discipline of temptation and trial
---without encountering the dangers of this world or the
118 HILL AND WALLEY.
terrors of a guilty conscience, her children have entered at
once on their glorious inheritance. How many prosper-
ous men, after the brightest worldly career, have lived to
mourn that they also did not perish before sin had blighted
their hearts—before sorrow and remorse added their ſear-
ful pang to the bitterness of death; yet nature must feel,
and ought to do so, therefore we gave our warmest sympa-
thy to the sorrowing parents who followed.
The landlady at Bangor mentioned, that it is customary
among the poorer classes for friends to volunteer their attend-
ance at funerals, on which occasion the grave-digger car-
ries round his spade, and each individual is expected to de-
posit a gift upon it for the officiating clergyman. This col-
lection amounts in many cases to several pounds; but the
offerings are sometimes as low as one penny—a rule is made
against any visitor presuming to present less. In several
cases clergymen have been known very charitably to dis-
tribute this fund among the poorest relatives, or to bestow
it on indigent families in the neighbourhood, though their
own might often very nearly come under that denomination,
as the stipends in Wales are proverbially low ; and wher-
ever they are smallest, the largest seems always ready to be
provided for.
Near Bangor, in the afternoon, being caught in the rain,
we stepped into a cottage, where the inhabitants welcomed
us in Welsh, while we returned thanks in English ; but
there is a universal language of courtesy which can never
be misunderstood when kindness is intended on both sides.
The interior was a clean and comfortable room, quite a
study for Ostade or Teniers, with the dog, cat, poultry, and
pigs, exhibiting a great appearance of cheerfulness and
plenty. I observed a broad flat loaf of brown bread, like
a tea-tray, suspended from the roof, with a carving-knife
dangling beside it, wreaths of onions, and graceful drape-
ries of herrings. Our oracle, the landlady at Bangor, says,
EIILL AND VALLEY, 119
Mrs. Pennant of Penrhyn gives a weekly dinner to all the
poor of this parish, and likewise sends materials once
a-week to have another cooked for them at the Penrhyn
Arms; therefore no one in that neighbourhood has any oc-
casion to starve unless he likes. If the loaves in Wales
are unusually large, the mutton appears certainly smaller
than any we have in the Highlands; but the regular bill
of fare in Wales is always like that which Smollett met
with elsewhere, “mutton of every kind.” The waiters
at Bangor all attended at dinner in shoes made of goat’s
skin, with the hair outside, looking like the prints of Ro-
binson Crusoe, and they are thus enabled to slip about the
rooms as quietly as cats. In this large establishment a
person is employed all night as well as all day, whose only
business is to watch the bells where they are hung, that he
may call out the number instantly when any one rings.
I slept not far off, and invariably heard him vociferate
“fifteen” whenever mine was pulled, which reminded me
of Haji Baba's surprise on remarking, that “as soon as he
drew a string in the parlour, a corresponding figure with
white dust on his head appeared at the door;” but I did not
amuse myself like him with trying how often the experiment
would succeed.
The same animated celebration of All Saints' Eve takes
place among the Welsh peasantry that Burns describes in
his poem on Hallowe'en, and all the superstitious ceremo-
nies seem exactly similar to those in Scotland. Apples
and tallow candles are hung alternately from the cottage
ceiling, so close together that those who leap up to catch
them in their mouths can scarcely touch the one without
tasting the other, though the greatest proof of skill and
good fortune is to succeed in doing so. Large tubs are al-
so filled with cold water, at the bottom of which shillings
and halfpence are visible, earned by any one who can pick
them out with his teeth, while his hands are tied behind ;
120 LiTEL AND WALLEY.
and efforts so desperately persevering are sometimes made
in the attempt, that some successful candidates would al-
most require the Humane Society’s apparatus to restore
them on emerging at last from the water.
At every inn on this road we eat and dress in jig time, as
Welsh harpers seem always in full play, forming a very en- .
livening acquisition where they can be heard, and extreme-
ly unobtrusive in asking remuneration, as they never beg,
though grateful for the merest trifle offered. The instru-
ment has three rows of strings, or rather wires, but there
is a great sameness in the music, which resembles a horn-
pipe, and seldom exhibits any dignity or any volume of
sound. The notes want roundness ; but it is superior to
the Irish harp, in which the key cannot be changed with-
out re-tuning the whole instrument. Some harpers play
a march to represent the advance and retreat of an army,
beginning with scarcely audible softness, afterwards swell-
ing out to the fullest force of the instrument, and then dy-
ing away, as if they were five miles off, with so much
management and effect, that Bochsa himself might have
been jealous. -
We made a charming excursion on Friday to the Falls,
where, according to that beautiful tradition given in Gray’s
Ode, the last of the bards precipitated himself in despair
from the towering rock which “frowns o'er old Conway’s
foaming flood.” Here would have been the place to spout
forth with due effect those unfortunate lines beginning
“Ruin seize thee, ruthless king,” so often and so ruthlessly
murdered at school examinations, where the show boy in
the English class generally stammers it forth. A finer
stage for the whole incident could not have been found than
that which the poet has selected here. Six cascades are
plunged into one deep, dark pool, whence they take a fall
in concert, after which the river runs on with dignified
composure, as if nothing extraordinary had occurred.
HILL AND WALLEY, 121
This might certainly be the place where Orpheus caused
the rocks and trees to dance, for they still exhibit singular
confusion, while the broad sheet of foam which rushes head-
long into every echoing chasm seems like a living spirit
animating the frame of nature, and turning our thoughts
to Him “who hath divided a water course for the flowing
rivers.” The wooded and precipitous banks were festoon-
ed with hazels, ashes, and oaks, which softened the bolder
features of the landscape; and amidst such “desert caves”
to hide in, this neighbourhood must have been admirably
adapted to the Guerilla warfare carried on amidst its silent
retreats in the olden time. - * .
A boy with a wooden leg acted as our guide, scrambling
with astonishing dexterity to an eminence, where it seem- .
ed almost inevitable that he must inadvertently follow the
example of Gray’s bard, “deep in the roaring tide to
plunge.” The little fellow looked exceedingly contemptuous
at my cowardice in remaining safely and unambitiously be.
low, which occasioned our losing one principal branch of the
cascade ; but if any one be willing to risk his life in such
a cause, he should wait for Niagara. Pearls may be found
in this river, though unluckily we had not time to wait un-
til a necklace could be collected. The imitation ones are
so excellent, however, that it was less to be regretted. Even
oriental pearls are scarcely to be distinguished from those
which originate in Bond Street; and the celebrated fringe
worn by Mrs. Warren Hastings, which used to occasion
so much discussion, would hardly be more noticed now.
than if they were peas. The Duchess of Ormond for.
merly offered £80 to purchase a peculiarly fine Conway
pearl; and they were often sold for four guineas each when
the colour was good. It is said that nothing preserves
pearls so perfectly white as being constantly worn, and
that the Roman ladies, conscious of this, always slept in
theirs. -
II.
122 HILL ANT) VALLEY,
Lord Willoughby has an extensive property not far from
Bangor, and he may be considered peculiarly fortunate in
possessing estates situated amidst the most romantic scene-
ry of both Scotland and Wales, with Gray’s verses to im-
mortalize the one, and Sir Walter Scott's to celebrate the
other. Several hills here resemble views that are engraved
of Cintra ; for the circular rocks on their summits look like
Moorish fortresses, and have precisely the effect of mason-
ry. On the top of one towering eminence stood a summer-
house, in the ugliest style of modern architecture, but most
strikingly situated on so precipitous an ascent, that to those
who are not good mountaineers, a ladder of ropes would be
rather a desirable auxiliary in climbing it. Some English
sailors lately contrived to surmount the Peter Botte at Mau.
ritius, which used to be thought impregnable, and is describ-
ed as having the shape of half an hour glass, resting on the
small end. Since that has been successfully achieved, it
must be supposed that all Welsh hills are possible, though
when placed on the Summit of such a precipice as we saw
to-day, travellers probably feel somewhat as Sinbad describes
when suspended in mid air on the eagle's bill. Nature
cannot abhor a vacuum more than I do, when gazing down
from a mountain top ; and though it is comparatively easy
to ascend, I never can get down again; therefore we crept
ingloriously round the base, admiring those giants with their
heads buried among the clouds, but not at all disposed to
form a nearer acquaintance, unless the descent could have
been made on the plan of the Montagnes Russes in Paris.
Some cottages in this part of Wales are tastefully built like
the Black Dwarf's, with rough lumps of stone, but evidently
air-tight, and the chimneys in odd angular shapes, skilful-
ly planned, so as to have an extremely eccentric effect.
As cottages owe most of their expression and character to
the style of the chimneys, it is always important to have
them conspicuous and well proportioned.
HILL AND - VALLEY. 123
Near Abergeley, several miles to the east of Conway,
may be seen one of the strangest freaks in the way of
castle-building that can well be imagined. I have seen a
house before ; but such a house—never ! No school of
architecture hitherto known can possibly lay claim to a
singular residence recently built near the sea-coast by Mr.
Bamfylde Hesketh. The whole precipitous face of a hill
has been cut and carved into the shape of turrets, battle-
ments, and pinnacles, so that the entire mountain seems in-
tended to represent a castle. What parts are habitable,
and what parts merely ornamental, it would be difficult to
discriminate from our distant position on the road. The
effect as yet looks rather sombre, though it might be enli-
vened by more false windows being added, and perhaps a
few stone inhabitants like those at Alnwick. There is no-
thing new under the sun ; but its rays have probably never
for a long time looked upon any thing so perfectly origin-
al as this castle, not apparently built, but excavated, and
where an addition is made by carrying away stones instead
of bringing them. The architect deserves indeed to be im-
mortalized; for, as a distinguished poet says,
All Wyatt's works a classic taste combine,
Who studied long the amcients o'er and o'er;
But lo! the greater reputation thine,
To do what no man ever did before,
Conway Castle is one of the chief lions in this neigh-
bourhood, being a magnificent ruin, the walls of which
measure more than a mile in circumference, and they are
whimsically laid out in the form of a Welsh harp. The
building is nobly situated on a lofty rock, nearly surround-
ed by an arm of the sea; and the walls, more than twelve
feet thick, are defended by eight large circular towers,
beautifully clothed with ivy. It was here that Monk Lew-
is placed the story of his Castle Spectre; and many a
124 EIILL AND WALLEY.
stern scene of conflict its venerable battlements have wit.
nessed. Edward I. was besieged within those walls of his
own building till he became reduced to the last extremity of
famine, and must have surrendered but for the timely reple-
nishment of his larder by a vessel which arrived laden with
provisions. In 1646 the Parliamentary army besieged
and took it, after which they committed the most barbarous
outrages; and having tied all King Charles's Irish troops
in pairs, back to back, they flung them into the river.
We read of a wild beast's ravages with horror; but their
cruelties are dictated by hunger, while they seldom attack
each other, and can neither know the torture they inflict,
nor feel any additional pleasure in doing so; but these
men, with their passions let loose, would have made a tiger
seem humane in comparison. No opportunities occur now
in this favoured land to exercise such cruelty; but the germs
of a disposition which would delight in inflicting pain may
be traced sometimes, when, even amidst the courtesies of
society, there are persons to be occasionally met who derive
an obvious gratification from causing such petty mortifica-
tions as lie in their power to the very friends with whom
they associate. At school every boy seems to find evident
pleasure in wantonly tormenting his companions; and abs
horrent as greater acts of cruelty seem in our estimation,
how carefully should every individual scrutinize his own
heart, to observe whether, being ready to wound his com-
panions à coup d'epingles, when that is possible, his dispo.
sition might not be considered more fit to claim a family
resemblance to men of malice, violence, and all uncharita-
bleness, than to those who are preparing for a state of Chris.
tian communion hereafter, in which “all who see a living
soul shall see a friend.”
The suspension bridge leading to Conway Castle is ex-
tremely handsome, though, after the masonry was built at
a great expense, of very excellent stone and workmanship,
HILL AND VALLEY. 125
which harmonized perfectly with the sublime old ruin,
the arches have most unaccountably been painted entirely
over with brilliant cement, which seems really like gilding
a diamond, unless some very good reason can be produced
in mitigation of this apparent blunder. -
The grandest achievement in road-making yet accom-
plished in Britain is seen on doubling the precipitous pro-
montory of Penmanmawr, between Conway and Bangor,
where the carriage winds round a shelf of rock, hewn
out of the solid stone, with a mountain towering on one
side, 1500 feet perpendicular above the Sea, and the Irish
Channel stretching to the horizon on the other. Before
the new road rendered this pass tolerably safe, Swift wrote
inscriptions, which were hung-over the doors of two small
inns at each end of the dangerous path, then a terror to all
travellers. On the first was this salutary advice:
Before you venture hence to pass,
Take a good refreshing glass.
On the second he was equally hospitable and inviting,
Now you’re over, take another,
Your drooping spirits to recover.
The frequent renewal of such a prescription would soon
have made travellers complain, like Neil Gow, that the
breadth of a path was more inconvenient than its length.
The story is often related of a poor man who had indulg-
ed deeply in similar potations to help him along a preca.
rious way, but having unfortunately fallen into the water,
he was drowned. A moment before death, looking up at
the moon during his last struggles, he was heard to say,
“Put out that light; I’m for nae mair drink.”
Rocks still overhang the road at Penmanmawr, that look
almost as large as some of the Welsh churches; and the
wind occasionally blows with such violence on this cape,
II*
I26 HILL AND WALLEY.
that the mail has been obliged to retrace its steps from Con-
way, without venturing forward to Bangor. In Edinburgh,
where the winds are proverbially high, it used to be told
that a coachman had once been “mounted on the whirl-
wind’s wing,” and blown off his box. This might possibly
have happened at Penmanmawr, in wheeling round the cor-
ner, where we were met by so stiff a breeze, and the waves
were beating up with such force, that it reminded me of the
Bullers of Buchan, where Slains Castle towers high above
the ocean, and where the old housekeeper said that she
never considered it a real storm till the flounders were fly-
ing into the court-yard. We however weathered this peint
in safety, without being even so roughly handled as a lady
who once complained of a gale at sea becoming so violent,
that “the rings were blown off her fingers;” and we re-
turned to Bangor, as the Cockney described himself, “with
a perfect harico in our teeth all the way.”
Ban stands for good, and choeur for choir, which is the
ancient spelling for Bangor. It may be conjectured there-
fore, that their music was originally very fine here, which
it still continues, but the cathedral is the Smallest attempt
at one that can be seen, though belonging to the senior bish-
oprick in Wales. Bangor cathedral was dedicated in
512, to St. Daniel.--One of the first bishops having pillag-
ed it for his own benefit, even sold the very bells, after
which he is said to have been struck blind for his sacrilege )
Deaf would have been more appropriate to the crime, if
ever committed, which seems the most improbable part of
the tradition. Bishop Hoadley was presented to this See
in the reign of George I. but, as it is generally a mere
stepping-stone to a better, he obtained promotion to Here-
ford, before he ever entered Bangor. A reply to one of
his sermons, by Law, author of the “Serious Call,” who
was then a high-churchman, gave rise to the great Bangor-
ian controversy, which lasted during forty years' The
EIILL AND WALLEY, 127
bishop's works on this subject amount to three thick and
closely printed folios, of cool, clever, and rather heterodox
divinity. One principal point in dispute was the meaning
of that text, “My kingdom is not of this world.” When
the intention of Scripture is there so obvious, that it seems
framed by Divine wisdom on purpose to suit the capacity
of every man, woman, or even child, who can read, it does
seem a perverted ingenuity that can plunge- such a subject
into obscurity. The vehement discussion which followed,
shows howeverything may lead to contention among conten-
tious people; as texts, plain enough to direct the belief and
conduct of any Christian, may puzzle a thousand commen-
tators and mere theologians. The argument lasted nearly
as long as a Scotch law-suit, and the parties deserved great
credit for keeping their tempers. The oldest religious con-
troversy we read of, took place between Job and his friends,
which would perhaps have continued fully as long, if it had
not been stopped by Divine authority; and when we see,
in ordinary life, the rapidly increasing sharpness of reply,
which the most transient difference of opinion engenders,
it becomes evident that sparring for forty years must have
given a fine edge to the contest. A pamphleteering war is
to be deprecated on any subject, and more especially on
religion;–as even those who begin with being perfectly cool
are generally heated at last, like two sticks taking fire by
friction. Many who have spent their talents thus in de-
bate, “how loud how long ! how dexterous ! in Christian
love how cold,” may feel at last as Grotius did on his death-
bed, when describing a poor religious man, who employed
eight hours a-day in reading and prayer, eight in sleep and
meals, and eight in labour;-‘‘Ah!” said he, “I have con-
sumed my life in laboriously doing nothing ! I would give
all my learning and honour for the simple integrity of John
Urick I’”
As you are not partial to authors of twenty-volume pow-
128 EIILL AND VALLEY.
er, it may be prudent now to reach the end of my own lu-
cubrations. Sterne knew the enticing nature of pen and
ink, when he exclaimed, “Let no man say—I’ll write a
duodecimo.”
#III, L AND WALLEY, 129
CHAPTER IX.
“No adventure, no sentiment, far as we've come,
But the corn-fields and trees quite as dull as at home.”
MOORE.
MY DEAR Cousin, At an eminent school near London,
the head-master, every month, used to assemble round him
all the scholars who had leave to write home, each with a
Slate in his hand, while he stood in an elevated desk, dic-
tating the rough copy of a letter which was to suit all pa.
rents at once. The style in which one of these composi-
tions was worded, might have been precisely adapted to my
intended description of our residence at the Penrhyn Arms,
“perfectly happy, well-fed, and well-treated, making satis-
factory progress, and not impatient to return home.”
We went on Thursday to visit the famous slate-quarries
at Bangor, the largest mines of this kind in Great Britain,
and exceedingly curious, besides being productive of an
enormous income. In fairy tales, a man is described
whose money turned into slates; but Mr. Pennant, the pro-
prietor, manages much better here, by reversing it, and
transforming his slates into gold. We were assured that
he makes money faster than he can count it ; and if all re-
ports be true, Croesus was a joke to him. This one hill
is worth at least £80,000 a-year. Twelve thousand men
are employed on it constantly,––a perſect army besides
more than a hundred waggons. The effect, when we first
looked into this excavation, seemed as if an enormous bee-
hive had been turned upside down, with all the insects
at work. More slates seemed already prepared than would
have been necessary for giving a new roof to the whole
130 HILL AND WALLEY.
city of London, if wanted, besides supplying all the school-
boys in Britain with writing boards. Many of these mea-
sured three or four feet long, and they get rank, as the peo-
ple did at Liliput, according to size; being named count-
esses, duchesses, and princesses, to signify the different
dimensions of each. In one college at Oxford the drink-
ing cups rank in proportion to their capacity, being named
doctors, proctors, scholars, and servitors; but those who
delight in great rank, may revel among titles and honours
at Penrhyn slate quarries, where a herald's office seems
established, which Burke, Debrett, and the Court Guide
can scarcely excel. We did not ascertain how low the
scale of precedence descends, but perhaps it might meet
the inquiry of Miss , who wished to be informed what
is the rank of a baronet's grand-daughter.
Many labourers at the quarry were working underground,
and some appeared suspended like spiders by long lines
hanging from the precipices, while they excavated with great
diligence, forming galleries of slate, resembling houses built
with cards, and ready to be thrown down by a touch. Nu-
merous accidents happen, but nothing can exceed the
liberality and kindness with which sufferers are always treat-
ed by Mr. Pennant, who has established an hospital for
maimed or mutilated workmen. The people become so care-
less, from living long in such a scene with impunity, that
they can scarcely be prevailed upon to take ordinary pre-
cautions, though after an explosion, the sharp heavy slates
descend like shower of scythes or battle-axes, cutting and
maiming indiscriminately all who are within reach. One
large slate is reported to have acted as a guillotine, and
actually struck off a man’s head. Some months ago Prin-
cess Victoria visited these quarries, when three thousand
holes were stuffed with gunpowder, and fired off in succes-
sive salutes, which must have sounded magnificent, awaken-
ing the echoes on many a distant hill. Great personages
HILL AND WALLEY, 131
would require a fresh relay of nerves wherever they go, to
stand the cannonading with which it is etiquette to receive
them. We were treated to one explosion, which was more
than enough, and to inflict three thousand was a cruel kind-
IlêSS. -
The old eight wonders of the world should now be ca-
shiered and laid on the self, they are so completely out-done
by a new set in the present day, nearly the whole of which
might be seen within a walk of Bangor. The suspen-
sion bridge of Menai, deserves, for instance, to be pro-
moted, vice the hanging gardens of Babylon supersed-
ed; and we set out to pay our tribute of astonishment
at this surprising work of modern skill. From a great
distance, Menai bridge looks like the father of all spiders’
webs, while carriages or horses resemble flies that have been
recently caught,-so prodigious and unexpected are its vast
proportions. -
Iron bridges cannot in general be commended for beauty,
with perpendicular supporters and straight lines between,
so little comparable to a light graceful arch. Their effect
is as inferior as that of a steam boat to a sailing vessel;
the one with its tall black chimney, plodding sullenly along,
—the other with its white and flowing draperies dancing in
the breeze. Both my favourites will however at last become
entirely obsolete ; the useful takes precedence of the orna-
mental, and stone bridges threaten to turn as rare as they
are beautiful, while we shall have nothing to cross the wa-
ters on now but either a vessel bursting with fire and smoke,
or a bridge that looks no better than a magnified fender.
Poets and painters should take this into serious considera-
tion, and get up a little agitation on the subject, or they
may be unjustly deprived of two very important features
in all their compositions, without getting any redress. We
alighted at one end of the Menai, and walked across, follow-
ed by the carriage, which caused by its weight consider-
132 HILL AND VALLEY.
able vibration in the centre, apparently obvious even to the
horses.
Four workmen lost their lives in constructing this won-
derful piece of mechanism. The pillars are of granite, and
the bridge between takes a stride of 1717 feet !—What
would the Colossus of Rhodes say to that It occupied six
years, and cost £120,000 in building, while the turnpike
brings in only an average income of £1,000 a-year, very
unsatisfactory interest for money'; but the proprietors may
be deservedly proud of their own success in rearing so last-
ing a monument of enterprise and opulence. We seemed
to be hung in mid-air, while standing over the waters of this
beautiful bay,+with “ the blue above and the blue below,”
both equally calm and peaceful; the sea birds hovering
over our heads and the light vessels passing beneath our
feet. The sensation might be not very unlike that of travel-
ling in a balloon. It would be very desirable now, if ačro-
nauts would begin to tell us more than they ever do, con-
cerning the variations in what is seen and felt by themselves,
and less about the variations in Fahrenheit's thermometer,
which seems to engross so undue a proportion of notice,
that it would be most fortunate if some day it were acci.
dentally broken or forgotten. - . “,
About the year 1280, Edward I. built a bridge of boats
across this estuary, on which sixty men could march
abreast, but like that of Xerxes it had a very short exist-
ence, and caused a severe calamity to the founders. Part
of the English forces had crossed before the chain gave
way ; the rest could not follow, and the Welsh massacred
that first detachment of invaders, except Sir William La-
timer, whose horse contrived to swim back with him. It is
singular that all animals enjoy an advantage Over mankind
in being able to swim ; one instance among many how it
takes all the ingenuity of reason to equal the natural gift of
instinct. Human power has been increased by the accu-
EIILL AND WALLEY. 133
mulated experience and knowledge of former ages; while
no inferior species ever improve the intelligence of their
kind, or pass the narrow bound appointed to animal intel-
lect; therefore, though men originally could only swim like
Leander across the Hellespont, without more skill than Sir
William Latimer’s horse, the march of discovery has at
last advanced us to this ne plus ultra of mortal achieve-
ments, the bridge of Menai. ,-
After crossing to Anglesey, conjectured to have been
once a part of the mainland severed by floods, the first ob-
ject claiming attention is an elegant monument, built by
public subscription, and picturesquely placed on an emi-
nence. It is 80 feet high, and dedicated to the Marquis
of Anglesey’s leg, killed at Waterloo; if the other limb
and a body in proportion are added hereafter, the whole
will be stupendous. Passing round the foot we hastened
on three miles to Plas-na-Wydd, a beautiful residence of
the Paget family; charmingly situated in a fine park, sprin-
kled round with noble trees, and bounded by the ocean,
which shone like a chrysoprasus in the brightest moon,
when, as an illustrious poet poetically remarked, “the sun’s
perpendicular heat illumined the depths of the sea.” This
place must have been a joyous scene, when George IV.
paused here in 1821, on his road to Ireland. There cannot
be a more enlivening house, lighted up with extensive airy
windows as if they were made for nothing but sunshine and
happiness. In point of external appearance, the walls
have no particular architecture to boast of, and in truth
they are positively ugly ; but when their gay, animated,
smiling aspect, is contrasted, with the gloomy, stern mag-
nificence of some others, it seemed a convincing proof
that in houses, as much as individuals, fine features are
less important than a cheerful pleasing expression. Plas.
na-Wydd would generally be preferred to pass a lifetime in,
though finer houses might be shown as mere specimens of
12
134 HILL AND WALLEY,
architecture to lionize occasionally. The loveliest places
are frequently the most neglected, and we were told that
here the family had not been settled for any length of time
during the last fourteen years. It was formerly related of
a Duchess of Douglas, that having failed in prevailing on
the Duke to settle at Bothwell castle, she took an opportu-
nity, during her husband’s absence, to burn his favourite
residence, Douglas castle, to the ground, that his Grace
might be induced, by this gentle expedient, to re-model his
plans, so as to indulge her wishes; but neither fire nor
sword are necessary now to dislodge the generality of pro-
prietors from the finest residences in England, while the
continent continues so near and accessible. -
The first portrait in the drawing-room at Plas-na-Wydd
rather surprised us. It represented the late Duchess of
Argyle, and was surpassingly beautiful, with dark hair,
and a mournful expression of the deepest melancholy.
She holds by the hand a lovely child, now Duchess of Rich-
mond, a perfect miniature of herself, but with a joyful look
of childish glee very different from her mother's pensive
aspect. Lord Anglesey’s likeness hangs next, painted
with so much vivacity and spirit, that no doubt the resem-
blance is good. On the other side is his sister, Lady Caro-
line Capel; and you would not have believed it possible that
the Duchess of Argyle's picture could be eclipsed, unless you
beheld this, which excels all others for beauty and grace.
Visitors return again and again to admire the soft down-
cast expression, the classical features, the transparent com-
plexion, the look of tenderness and sensibility, which ren-
ders this portrait perfectly bewitching ; and a knight-er-
rant of former days would have wandered all round the
world to discover an original for this model of beauty.
It is seldom that such pre-eminent loveliness appears in fa-
mily portraits, because plain persons are so flattered, and
handsome countenances can so seldom be done real justice
HILL AND VALLEY. 135
to, that all are generally in the medium, though it cannot
be called a “juste milieu.” &
The drawing-room walls at Plas-na-Wydd are covered
with foreign silk, which cost seven guineas a yard, ell wide,
as shopkeepers say; but Gillow never exhibited an article
in his warehouse that could bear comparison with this.
It has a ground of bright rose colour, covered with rich em-
broidery of flowers in their natural hues, tastefully group-
ed, and shaded with the skill of a first-rate artist. The
whole was worked by nuns in a French convent; and it
certainly is curious how often those who have abjured the
vanities of life for themselves, are employed in distributing
them to others. Some of the handsomest ball-dresses that
could be seen at court formerly, were likewise embroider-
ed in a convent; and nearly all the diamond merchants in
London are quakers, who grow rich by encouraging a taste
which they profess at the same time to deprecate. Before
making our final exit from Plas-na-Wydd, the visiting book
was as usual brought, in which our autographs were to be
inserted ; and it is impossible too much to admire the libe-
rality of proprietors who grant so unlimited a passport in
this way to strangers, whose very names are unknown.
We consider it a hardship in town to inhabit houses to be
let, where a ticket is hung up, indicating that they may
be seen “on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, from
12 till 2;” but no hour of any day is safe from intru-
sion at a show place, so that some persons would scarcely
accept a lease of Blenheim itself, on condition of being lia-
ble to such constant incursions.
You will be amused to hear, that on a subsequent visit
at Plas-na-Wydd, the housekeeper exhibited a dressing-
room, then occupied by Lady E m, when upon the ta-
ble a book lay on its face, with the physiognomy of which
we thought ourselves familiar, and taking the volume up,
it proved to be Modern Accomplishments 1
136 HILL AND VALLEY.
The agent’s house at Plas-na-Wydd was mentioned as
being well worth inspecting, though without receiving this
valuable hint we should as soon have thought of lionizing
the porter's lodge; but it amply repays the trouble of going
there, being an exact personification of the charming cot-
tages, with a description of which most novels begin. The
first chapter would have been complete at once, if there
had only been a few suitable inhabitants to form a dramatis
personae. The heroine, with her bonnet fallen back on her
shoulders, and her long hair streaming in the wind. An
old lady, in a mob cap, talking sense by the duodecimo
page, and spouting long scraps of poetry, as ladies do in
novels, though never in actual conversation, and a hero
might have been thrown into the back-ground, sketching or
shooting. As it was, we were told that the family had all
“gone to the Highlands that morning, and intended to be
back at night.” Somewhat surprised even in these expedi-
tious times at so summary a mode of travelling, we investi-
gated more fully, and discovered that our informant had
misplaced the letter h, and it was to some islands the party
had gone, near Bangor, where puffins abound. It is a fa-
vourite exploit in the neighbourhood to go there and dine,
though if sportsmen eat immediately what they kill, the
birds must certainly be roasted in their feathers.
The Grecian monarch said, “if P were not Alexander, I
should wish to be Diogenes;” and many people, seeing this
little paragon of a cottage, might be ready to exclaim, “if I
were not the marquis, I should wish to be his steward,” for
certainly never was a steward more romantically lodged,
amidst roses and woodbines ; but what appears still more
surprising, we observed a fine collection of minerals, a
very extensive library, and several first-rate paintings.
One original picture by Titian, had retired from public life,
and instead of adorning the Vatican or the Louvre, was
wasting its sweets in Anglesey. A portrait also of the
HILL AND WALLEY." 137
celebrated Lady Hamilton, painted at Naples, had found
its way here.
After leaving Plas-na-Wydd park, we enjoyed a plea-
sant drive to the old castle of Beaumaris, an interesting
ruin of Edward I.'s time. No one ever built castles in
the air with more ease and frequency than this monarch
did on the earth ; for the Welsh were forced, like the child-
ren of Israel during their bondage, to assist in building for
a hard master; and many are the fortresses yet remaining,
which they unwillingly erected to confirm the English op-
pressor in maintaining his tyrannical authority. Edward
I. once very appropriately called himself “the hammer of
the Scottish nation ;” but he reserved a few blows for his
neighbours in Wales likewise, of which many military cas-
tles afford a permanent memorial, as all those we see
throughout this country were reared by him, and afterwards
ruined a la picturesque by a touch from Cromwell, who very
appropriately adopted for his crest, an iron hand. He
seems to have been continually bringing an old house
about his ears during the uncivil war, as Joe Miller called
it;-Conway, Carnarvon, Harlech, and Beaumaris have
each the same history to relate ; for, as regularly as we are
told, “this is the house that Jack built,” a sequel follows
about the man all shaven and shorn, who reduced the cas-
tle all tattered and torn, and left the country all forlorn.
The grounds inside these ruins at Beaumaris, have been
metamorphosed into a tennis court, which rather enlivens
the old wall; for a joyous party was assembling there
when we entered. In South Wales, a very ancient tennis
court of this kind may be seen, with a quaint inscription
over the entrance, which would not in many places be a
necessary warning now, even though Sir Andrew Agnew's
bill has not yet passed :—
12+
I38 HILL AND WALLEY,
“Whoever here on Sunday
Will practise playing at ball,
It may be before Monday -
That Satam will have you all.”
At Glamis castle a tradition is told of an apartment hav-
ing once existed, where a party played at dice all Christ-
mas day, till suddenly the doors and windows were super-
naturally closed up, and the room has never since been
found, though every Christmas night the rattle of dice is
said to be distinctly audible; but while such immediate
penalties are not inflicted for the desecration of a sacred
day, it is curious to see how people were kept in order
long ago, as nursery-maids try to frighten children into
obedience by tales of imaginary terror. After scrambling
up a perpendicular staircase, to the summit of the keep-
tower at Beaumaris castle, we were suddenly favoured by
a blaze of sunshine, which lighted up the whole landscape
with unwonted splendour during several minutes, and then
as suddenly vanished. -It seemed to have come on purpose
for us, and lasted exactly the time we required; but I shall
never forget the unexpected pleasure it bestowed, breaking
out through a stormy sky which had been gradually dark-
ening and lowering during our whole drive. For a mo-
ment, even the black walls of Penrhyn castle shone as if
they had become white, and the village of Bangor, on the
opposite coast, seemed illuminated. Sir Boyle Roach
thought the moon more useful than the sun, as “the sun
shines only when there is daylight at any rate, but the
moon appears when we should otherwise be in the dark;”
but whatever might be said of its usefulness, he would have
certainly allowed on this occasion, that nothing could be
more ornamental. Before long, however, we were consign-
ed again to gloom, and soon after the rain was pleased to
fall in torrents. Nevertheless, hearing that Sir George
HILL AND WALLEY, 139
Bulkeley’s fine old house lay not far distant, we resolved to
extend the eye of observation, and to open the note-book
of criticism as we passed, and accordingly stopped at Bar-
ron-Hill,—not barren, but quite the reverse, as it stood in a
fine park, charmingly wooded, and commanding a noble
view, where -
“Mountains to the sky are toss'd,
Where rivers in the sea are lost,
And tumbling billows mark the coast.”
This elegant mansion, the object of our admiration, and
apparently fitted to continue an ornament to the country
for centuries, has become an instance of that mutability
in all earthly affairs, to which houses as well as their inha-
bitants are equally liable ; for the entire building was re-
duced to nothing in the course of a few hours, having been
accidentally set fire to and entirely consumed. We must
hope that another mansion will speedily rise out of the ashes,
for there cannot be a finer situation ; but meantime my
flaming description of walls and windows no longer in ex-
istence, may share their fate, and be likewise burned.
We returned towards Bangor by a delightful road along
the sea-shore, cut and carved amongst the rocks at an
enormous expense of time, gunpowder, and money. It was
presented to the public by Lord Bulkeley, for which we,
as a part of the public, took the opportunity of feeling very
grateful. An ancient stone coffin is shewn near this, which
however, we did not see, where Princess Joan, daughter of
King John, was formerly buried, though it is now degrad-
ed into a horse trough. Coffins are sometimes used for
very extraordinary purposes; and the late eccentric Laird
of had his own in the house many years before he died,
standing on end, with shelves to hold bottles; hinges were
put to the lid, and it formed a most convenient, though ra-
ther singular cupboard. When Lady
's body was sent
140 HILL AND WALLEY.
down from London to the Highlands, at an immense expense,
the undertakers, where they stopped to rest in an evening, al-
ways played at whist, and dealt their cards on a black cloth
which covered the lid of her coffin ; but in the case of
Princess Joan, no one could tell what became of her re-
mains. All these instances exemplify how every natural
feeling can be conquered by habit, and how undesirable it
is that sensitiveness on such a subject should be extinguish-
ed. *.
Having seen so much already to admire in Anglesey, I
imagined that even the Isle of Wight could scarcely be
richer than the “Isle of Druids.” What was my surprise,
therefore, when we took a drive of twenty-eight miles com-
pletely across the country one day, to Holyhead, and dis-
covered that the general face of this island is as bare as
Salisbury Plain, and in many places so like Hounslow
Heath, that we almost expected to be robbed.
The Druidical worship was always carried on in groves,
and this being the very centre of their superstitious rites,
it might have been expected that some oaks would still re-
main, with the sacred misletoe clinging to their roots; but
when the Romans extirpated Druidism, they burned all the
trees, which never raised their heads again. It brought
certain death formerly to count a Druid's circle of stones;
but we might with ease and impunity have numbered their
trees now. Fields of rushes were visible in every direc-
tion, but scarcely an inclosure. The whole country was
green and flat, like a billiard table, and troops of Welsh
ponies hopped about on the grass, with their legs manacled
together, which supersedes a necessity for fences, but must
greatly injure their paces in riding, as they could only be
Compared in grace and activity to rabbits.
The chief variety consisted in a perpetual succession of
windmills, which I felt as much inclined to quarrel with at
last as Don Quixote, they appeared so numerous. Gilpin
HILL AND WALLEYs 141
on the Picturesque, occasionally talks of “an amusing piece
of landscape,” but this was laughably ugly, and came upon
us with all the shock of a surprise after being so charmed
with the coast; but the same is too frequently the case with
persons as well as places, that in travelling over their minds
few improve on nearer intimacy, and those most attractive
at first, are often least estimable when known. The lady
in London, who fancied a glass coach as open as a conserva-
tory, and therefore bespoke one to travel in, that she might
see the country, would certainly have drawn every blind
down here. Very little levelling might be requisite for a
rail-road, as neither trees, houses, nor hills would be any
impediment; but a very few days usually reconciles people
to living in an ugly country, as well as with a plain looking
person, and probably the few inhabitants of Anglesea are
used to it.
An interesting paragraph ought to follow here, which is
unfortunately lost, containing an elaborate description of
several ancient Cromleches in Anglesea, followed by many
ingenious conjectures how they were raised and what
they were intended for. A short history of the Druids, in
about sixty pages, tracing their origin, and giving a full,
true, and particular account of their dress, manners, and
sacrifices, of their ancient customs and final extinction.—
Also a dissertation on the Anglesea copper-mines; with
particular directions for roasting and washing copper, and
a calculation stating the almost incredible mass of precious
ore “precipitated and sublimed ” here. &
The proprietor of a rich mine, aware what enormous
wealth lies concealed in the depths of the earth belonging
to himself; must have as much pleasure and advantage
whether it be dug up or not, as a miser has in his stores at
the bank, which he never either sees or spends ; and it
often appears to be the greatest of all Satan’s delusions, when
he bribes people to an inordinate love of that money which
142 HILL AND WALLE Ye
they never have the heart to enjoy. This very wealth pass-
es nominally into the hands of new possessors, who neglect
their souls, while grasping for another mite; and thus, in
endless succession, the same money is gained and hoarded,
by nominal owners, in successive generations,—who give
up eternity for riches which they never even see.
The Druids, like nearly all other heathens, were in the
habit of offering up human victims ; and while we shudder
to see in this instance, how “ their foolish hearts were
darkened,” it becomes interesting to trace in that dreadful
rite, a tradition of animal sacrifices instituted by the Al-
mighty in primeval times, as types of the great sacrifice to
be once offered up for the sins of the whole world. This
universal practice among pagan nations shows how gene-
ral the Divine revelation originally was, though its applica-
tion became perverted in the long course of years, and its
real meaning forgotten. We may remark too, that the
early Christians were sometimes unjustly accused and con-
demned by the Romans, for causing human sacrifices
and eating human flesh; and this was occasioned by the
imperfect description circulated among unbelievers, of the
manner in which disciples met for solemnly commemorat-
ing the holy sacrament. Such mistakes should increase our
thankfulness for being no longer dependent on mere tradi-
tion or verbal report, to gain our knowledge of those deep
mysteries sent from heaven, like the manna in the desert,
for our use, to be gathered every day in their native purity,
from the gospel record, for the nourishment of our souls
unto eternal life.
HILL ANO VALLEY, 143
CHAPTER X.
“I saw it with these eyes,
Sir! I believe it on that ground alone;
I could not, had I seen it with my own.”—CowPER.
My DEAR Cousin,_My intention is, to give such a de-
lightful account of our excursion to Wales, that you may
never recover the vexation of not accompanying us; and
we feel a comfortable conviction that this will be the case,
after hearing an unadorned narrative of all you have had
the misfortune to miss.
On our return through Anglesea to Bangor, nothing would
have been more agreeable, than to spend an additional
month at the Penrhyn Arms. There we always found our
“warmest welcome” from the most gracious of landladies,
assisted by a host of civil waiters, active chambermaids,
and accomplished cooks; while our bill was so mode-
rate, that it should be lithographed and distributed as a
pattern to all the hotel-keepers in England. Next day
after our excursion to the Isle of the Druids, we ordered
dinner at Bangor, and set off, intending meantime to enjoy
an airing towards the three peaks of Snowdon ; but alas !
I was destined never more to retrace my steps, or to set
foot again on the hospitable threshold of the Penrhyn
Arms —As our travels have hitherto been like Sir Fretful
Plagiary’s comedy, “rather deficient in incident,” it might
here be reasonably hoped that we were buried in an ava-
lanche of rocks near Snowdon, or overturned down a pre-
cipice and killed on the spot; therefore it will appear a
most contemptible sinking in poetry to acknowledge that
we were merely caught in the rain ' It was no ordinary
shower however which detained us at Capel Curig inn, for
144 HILL AND WALLEY,
the drops were worthy of Snowdon, and sounded on our
carriage-windows like rain at the theatre. If a single buck-
et could be copied here, no one would wonder that, seeing
a snug little inn not far distant, we resolved to stay out the
rainy season at Capel Curig, where I remained till A
proceeded in the evening for our baggage, and to pay the
bill at Bangor. Every thing turned out to be excellent
except the weather; and the landlady must certainly have
dreamed beforehand that we were coming, she had so en-
ticing a sitting-room prepared. This inn was built at
Lord Penrhyn's expense, entirely of slates, nailed in layers
on the front and sides, exactly like the roof, and as if the
whole had been brought, ready made, from the neighbour-
ing quarry. It has been placed half a mile off the great
public road, to catch a fine view ; which may be excusable
in this instance where so much is gained, but might be a
very inconvenient custom generally, if hotels went so far
in search of the picturesque.
Capel Curig inn has another remarkable peculiarity, the
landlord being a clergyman, who goes seven miles on Sun-
day to perform service in the church at Llanroost, besides
doing duty in the smallest chapel, or rather chapellette that
can be imagined near the inn. It appeared scarcely larger
or more commodious than a bathing machine ! The church
extension commissioners, if any are ever appointed for En-
gland, should take a microscope to look at it; and certain-
ly this innkeeper's double vocation is a singular case of plu-
ralities, well worthy of being quoted by those who object
to them; for, though St. Matthew was originally a publi-
can, he forsook that occupation as soon as his conversion
promoted him to be a teacher. Our host’s charity did not
begin at home, as on Sunday his guests were rather disap-
pointed that he gave us no morning service, nor assembled
the household for family prayers; but perhaps considering
how many miles he had to walk, besides performing the ser.
HILL AND WALLEY. 145
vice twice, it might not have been very easily accomplish-
ed. A set off across the hills, to hear this Welsh pas-
tor, who superintends as wild and mountainous a district
as Oberlin or Felix Neff, and teaches a congregation that
seemed as primitive as theirs. Our enemy the rain conti-
nued inexorable, so I remained blockaded within doors, not
quite reduced however to the extremity which the stout gen-
tleman's biographer endured, while he envied the ducks and
geese in their jovial enjoyment, and admired the cock with
its tail matted into a single feather ; but this was certain-
ly a silent and solitary day, while, by way of consolation,
we were told that the cathedral service is particularly well
performed at Bangor. The weather is also frequently dry
there, while it pours at Capel Curig, as the showers in this
quarter are partial, and seem particularly partial to Snow-
don; for the rain lashed down all day with ceaseless vehe-
mence, while very possibly all the best bonnets at Bangor
were going, in full procession, on a delightful morning to
church. - - • -
I felt, “while days were dark and friends were few,” like
a chess-player after a rash move, who suffers check-mate
at once; for it turned out that our remaining at Capel Curig
had been, as Talleyrand said on more important occasions,
“worse than a crime, it was a blunder;” but, what cannot
be cured must be endured, and my reflections, full of discon-
tented resignation on the subject, were at length interrupted
by our good landlady entering with the kind intention of
enlivening my solitary imprisonment, by bringing up a hand-
ful of tracts and a plate of hard biscuits, both very whole-
some and acceptable, which she insisted on presenting. It
became impossible to convince her that I did not feel most
lamentably dull, and she seemed quite distressed, at being
absolutely obliged by many household occupations, to de-
prive me of her own society. The good landlady’s mistaken
idea in this case, reminded me of what occurred to the
13
I46 HILL AND WALLEYe
Duchess d’Angouleme when she arrived in Edinburgh. On
account of her reduced establishment, she thought it re-
quisite that a footman, who had recently left off his livery,
should resume it. The man expressed himself so vehement-
ly against this encroachment on his prerogatives, that she
gave him his congé ; and then, dismissing the subject from
her thoughts, began reflecting on past political events, till
drowned in tears. At this moment her servant having
occasion to replenish the fire, entered her room, and ima-
gining her distress to be caused entirely by his own depar-
ture, he suddenly exclaimed, “ Ne pleurez plus, Madame 1
J’ y renonce 1 Je porterai la livrée.”
Having always lived, both in town and country, within
reach of the “church-going bell,” which calls an assembling
congregation to unite in praising God, the only bond of
sympathy universal among those of one faith ; it was an
era in a life-time to spend this entire Sunday, in the small,
best parlour of a country inn; though a blessed privilege
attends all Christians,—the light of the gospel being now
universally diffused in this country as the light of the sun,
no place is so unpropitious that it shuts them out from the
pleasures and advantages of a Sabbath. However solitary
or remote from ordinances they have the Bible,
“That sacred book, the author, God himself;
The subject, God and man, salvation, life
And death—eternal life, eternal death.
Most wondrous book bright candle of the Lord
Star of etermity the only star
By which the bark of man could navigate
The sea of life, and gain the coast of bliss.”
The scenery around Capel Curig reminded me of the High-
lands, where, even in the present day, a preacher may so
often be seen standing like an apostle upon the hill-side, ad-
dressing the multitude who cluster around in listening
groups upon the grass; and then raise their voices, in
IIILL AND WALLEY. 147
“grave sweet melody,” till the sound peals upwards on
the mountain brow or echoes along the valley; -
“Their organ-choir, the voice of many waters;
Their minstrels, brooks;
Their lamps, the moon and stars.”
It is a glorious sight, and no temple built by man can
equal the magnificence of that vaulted roof, and of those
perpetual hills, beneath which, a Highland minister, like
the Covenanters of old, addresses his flock. Nothing in
this world, however beautiful, or however apparently excel-
lent, is entirely freed from that danger of degenerating into
evil, which attaches to every thing on earth; and such as-
semblies in Scotland have sometimes lately been little bet-
ter than the American camp-meetings.
It is customary still for the clergy at many places, dur-
ing their annual celebration of the holy Sacrament, to preach
in the open air; and I shall never forget being present once
on such an occasion at Linlithgow, when the fine old pa-
lace and cathedral were visible, standing on the summit of
a beautiful green bank, which sloped down to the lake, and
was covered by a dense mass of attentivelisteners, sitting,
lying, or standing on the daisied grass; while one preacher
succeeded to another, and poured forth in animated accents
the sacred truths of the gospel. Towards evening the sky
darkened, and a thunder storm broke out, accompanied by
torrents of rain; but the assembled people, instead of dis-
persing, which might have been expected, only raised, as
if by magic, a field of cotton umbrellas, stretching as far as
the eye could reach, while not an individual stirred from
his place. If I could borrow Wilkie's pencil, it would cer-
tainly be used to sketch a field-preaching in some Highland
church-yard, where the living are mingled with the dead;
—sitting or leaning on the tomb-stones and grassy mounds,
exhibiting as many varied expressions of countenance, as
148 HILL AND VALLEY.
in Raphael's cartoon of Paul preaching at Athens. The
principal heritor on these occasions is generally indulged
with a white tent for his family-pew, which would form an
excellent object in the fore-ground of a field preaching, and
some of the captors might be represented in the distance,
whose office it once was in Scotland, during a period of
150 years, to perambulate the parish while divine service
was going on, and to remonstrate with all absentees, not
necessarily detained away.
A French author, discussing the very serious manner of
observing Sunday in the north, makes the astonishing dis-
covery, after probably a very difficult and intricate calcu-
lation, that every Scotchman who lives to be seventy, must
spend ten years of Sundays Certainly by the time he
reaches that advanced period, it will be a very agreeable
reflection to any man that he has done so conscientiously,
for the scriptural exhortation, teaching us “ to die daily,”
is more peculiarly applicable to the sacred period, when we
should practise to live in this world as those who are not
of it, who expect soon to leave it, and whose hearts are al-
ready in a better. Knowing that any day may be our last,
and that some day must be so ; it is indeed a blessed ap-
pointment, that a stated season is so especially set apart,
and so publicly observed, for solemnizing our minds by re-
flection,-for disentangling our thoughts from the engage-
ments or amusements of this passing scene,—and for so liv-
ing in a state of mental preparation, that when death at last
summons us to an eternal Sabbath above, we may die with-
out reluctance,—knowing that our change will only be to
brighter scenes than these, and to employments resembling
what have hitherto been most our delight in the earthly
Sabbaths that we loved. The great work begun in our
hearts in this world, can only be finished in a better state,
where we are not merely taught to desire rest and peace,
but we read these words among the many promises of
HILL AND VALLEY, 149
Scripture, “At thy right hand are PLEASUREs for ever-
more.” In this life we are apt to anticipate greater delight
from the flattering language of hope than it ever fulfils;
but in the blessings of religion we continually find more
now than they promise, while our expectations may enlarge
without bounds in looking to the future :—
“Their tasks the heavenly host fulfil,
Ere long to shine their last —
We, if we do our Father's will,
Shall shine when they are past.”
On Monday morning, the landlady at Capel Curig
brought up a curious book, kept at the inn for nearly fifty
years past, which afforded us great diversion. In its pages,
travellers are requested to record a verdict on the house,
whether they have been properly accommodated and civilly
treated; so nothing could be more diverting than to dis-
cover the names of many persons whom we had known,
and to see sometimes a very characteristic note in their
hand-writings. I was sorry to observe that our friend
Colonel Rººs, dined so little to his satisfaction on the 9th
of July 1812; and we sympathised most hoartily with a large
family of Smiths, in the following year, who thought their
beds had been damp. Certainly the public wit did not appear
to much advantage in this register of grumbling; for though
many a bad pun, and many a laboured attempt at one was
made,-yet as far as we took time to read, not a single
genuine flash of humour brightened the leaves. Irishmen
might be found bewailing the wrongs of their country;
Scotchmen professing an impartial preference for the High-
lands, and Englishmen recording what they had ate for din.
ner. One evident advantage of this miscellaneous compila-
tion is, that it acts as a safety-valve, to preserve the win-
dows and wainscots from poetical fire; and though few of
the Squibs were thrown off without some little explosion of
13 *
150 HILL AND WALLEY.
discontent, two were in perfect good-humour; which af.
ford a fair, specimen of the genius pervading this very
scarce manuscript :— -
“Of all the places I have seen,
Within this mighty region,
I’d choose new Capel Curig imm,
To be my habitation.”
The signature below is neither Goldsmith nor Crabbe, in
case any one might fancy a resemblance to their style, nor
has the author of the following lines favoured us probably
with any more lucubrations, as his name remains unknown
to fame :-
“Pleas'd with the inn and host, a grateful guest,
Strikes his crack'd lyre, and praises with the rest.”
Amused to observe the whole book resounding with a
universal groan over the wetness of the climate, we recom-
mended our landlady to charge a good day in her bill, as
that seemed evidently so great a rarity. The actors at a
country theatre once being unable to get up a storm for
King Lear, and wishing at least to shew that it rained,
made him come on the stage mad, with an umbrella; but
at Capel Curig it would be madness ever to stir without one,
for the peaks of Snowdon seem as if they pierced the clouds,
and let out their contents upon the dripping trees and houses
beneath, nevertheless we navigated our way through oceans
of mud to admire whatever could be seen, and to fancy how
the whole might appear when dressed up in Sunshine—
Snowdon in the mean time looking through the mist like
an enormous ghost flitting out of sight in dim and shadowy
obscurity. --
It is most truly pleasing to become acquainted with the
simple and amiable character of the country people in
Wales, and quite surprising to find them perfectly unsophis-
HILL AND WALLEY. 151
ticated in a neighbourhood so frequented by travellers.
One old man favoured me with his whole history on a ten
minutes’ acquaintance, and seemed as pleased with my sym-
pathy and interest in it as I was with his honest open-hearted
naivélé in relating what appeared certainly remarkable
only as a specimen how some people's lives pass on from
childhood to old age, without the slightest alteration of
place, of habits, or of events. He seemed to have grown
old, like the trees over our heads, with nothing more im-
portant occuring than a change of weather. The manner
of every peasant we met or spoke to is particularly oblig-
ing. They were often quite officiously civil, in running
to open gates when we approached, and generally stepped
quite off the foot-path, touching their hats when we passed.
It might have been supposed that the whole people had been
drilled by a certain military disciplinarian formerly, who
used to knock a hat off the head of any man in the lower
ranks, who did not voluntarily shew him the usual mark
of respect. Certainly such extreme measures are not to be
recommended ; but it is advantageous to both parties when
old customs and distinctions are kept up, which preserve
that subordination due to legitimate authority. The time
is not long elapsed when children knelt every morning to
receive a parent’s blessing, and that custom is yet main-
tained in the Duke of 's family; but neither sons, te-
nantry, nor parishioners, are under the authority of their
superiors as formerly ; and it is doubtful whether those
never accustomed to shew obedience or respect to earthly
power, will find the yoke easy in conforming their wills
to that of our Divine Master and Lawgiver himself.
I never observed a single instance of intoxication during
our progress through Wales, where the national beverage
is butter-milk kept until almost putrid—a luxury in which
there seems little temptation to exceed. The whole coun-
try must be united in one vast temperance society, or else
152 * * HILL AND WALLEY.,
such associations are quite superfluous here. We may
hope the people act on principles similar to that of a cler-
gyman, who replied, on being asked to take the oath of ab-
stinence, that he belonged to the oldest temperance Society
in the world, Christianity itself binding him by the most
solemn obligations to temperance, after having renounced
in his baptismal vow “all the sinful lusts of the flesh.”.
Still, if men's resolutions and principles are weak, addition-
al strength may sometimes be given to self-denial, by the
consciousness of having become banded with others in a
sacred compact, and of being liable to deeper worldly dis-
grace than before, by falling under temptation. The great
object on all occasions should be, to place a barrier at the
very commencement of temptation; and these societies have
achieved some good, by supplying a pretext for declining
to join in what may at first be merely called a social glass,
though probably leading on step by step to the maddest
excess. It is scarcely credible how many servants who
had previously acquired a long established character for
respectability, entirely forfeit all claim to it on account of
the imprudent custom in many houses where a dram is
given as a mark of good will to messengers, coachmen, or
servants, after more than ordinary fatigue; and many pain.
ful instances might be recorded, where it has led to con-
firmed habits of intoxication, so that, though much ridicule
is thrown on temperance societies by caricatured stories
raised against them, they have in many cases served as a
mechanical help to failing resolutions, where moral re-
straints might have proved insufficient. Christians are
directed to cut off a right hand, or to pluck out a right eye,
if it offend them; and it seems to be upon a somewhat simi-
lar plan that they thus turn away from the very sight of
what might lead to evil. In the Highlands the first thing
a new born infant tastes is whiskey. The working classes
partake of it every day on rising from bed, and emphatical-
HILL AND WALLEY. 153
ly call in “their morning,” while that is also the univer-
sal medicine prescribed by themselves for all diseases. It
seems wonderful that whole villages do not go off sometimes
in a spontaneous combustion, as the more people inquire
into the miserable condition of the many poor in different
districts, the more general and destructive will this reign
of intemperance be found. While it must be deplored that
men, and even women, are addicted to insobriety, still
more lamentable is the melancholy fact, that infants are in
many instances brought up by their parents to reject gruel
or other food, unless mingled with whiskey, after which
they enjoy it with the greatest relish. A Highland cler-
gyman, lately preaching against wine-bibbing, suddenly
recollected that his congregation of the poorer sort might
evade his admonitions by reading the text literally; so he
very considerately paused in the midst of delivering it, and
emphatically fixed his eyes on the most notorious offenders,
saying, “Whiskey, my friends, whiskey !” An old ſable
is related, that when Satan obtained permission to choose
what vice a man should have, in order to give the surest
chance of his intended victim being thoroughly corrupted,
he named intoxication, because that is the root of all
others. It is the same with nations as with individuals ;
and therefore, if temperance societies do no more than
stop one hole in a sieve, they deserve encouragement, and
it will be a blessing beyond all price when any scheme has
been devised for spreading sobriety throughout every part
of the kingdom, as conspicuously as it appears to be esta-
blished in Wales. The cottagers seem remarkably cleanly
in their houses and persons, but nature is never so extrava-
-gant as to bestow all her gifts at once, and it has been
surmised that, though the Welsh be moral and amiable
they are generally far from clever. Not a spark of Irish
vivacity enlivens them, for they would no more think of
cutting a joke than of cutting a throat. If a Welshman
154 EIILL AND WALLEY.
relaxed into a smile, the skin of his face would crack with
so unusual an effort; and as for a hearty fit of laughing, I
should like to hear the jest that produced one. Even
“old Grouse and the gunroom” might here have been re-
lated by Mr. Hardcastle with impunity Hume mentions,
in his History of England, that some wit of those days re-
ceived a crown-piece for making Edward II. laugh, which
must therefore have been rather an uncommon circum-
stance,—and he was born in Wales. It has been observed
that scarcely any first-rate authors have yet sprung from the
soil, though Sir William Jones is always mentioned as an ex-
ception to the rule. He ought to have a monument in every
village, to shew what a powerful writer Wales has produced,
that travellers may be frequently reminded, like the gentle-
man who once perpetrated a bon-mot, and desired it might
be repeated to him every day afterwards. Of heroes,
many in this country have distinguished themselves since the
days of Owen Glendower. The bravest and most lamented
was Sir Thomas Picton, who would have died for his coun-
try more than once, had that been possible, and who fell
nobly at last on the field of victory. His monument is
shewn at Carmarthen, after being broken and defaced by
a riotous mob, who received no provocation for this wanton
mischief, except that Sir Thomas died at Waterloo, and of
course all officers killed there, under the Duke of Welling-
ton, must have been Tories, and enjoyed sinecures
Fairs in this country seem like Quakers’ meetings.
The people who attended were so perfectly quiet and in-
animate, that you would have looked to see whether a pad-
lock was placed on their lips. How it would have astonish-
ed an Irishman to be suddenly transported from Donny-
brook to the one at Brecon, where, except the squeaking
of innumerable pigs, not a sound was audible; no merri-
ment, and no quarrelling. The people stood like a flock of
sheep, huddled together in the market place, all sober, silent,
HILL AND WALLEY, 155
indolent, and civil ; but we could scarcely have discovered
that a living creature breathed in the place, except for the
animation and vivacity of the swinish multitude, scream-
ing and grunting in every note of the gamut. Most Welsh
people are gifted with remarkably large features and very
aquiline noses, considered in general as characteristic of
high descent. They seem rarely to have any colour, and
are of remarkably short stature, being almost in proportion
to their ponies and sheep, which look quite Liliputian.
The case is far otherwise in respect to trees, as many of
them are prodigiously fine, and of nearly American propor-
tions. Nothing proves so obviously the antiquity of Wales,
as visiting her churchyards, where in several villages trees
flourish, evidently the growth of centuries, and one we
saw in a remote little hamlet must have been the father of
all yews, its growth was so splendid. “Where none admire
'tis useless to excel;” and this Colossus of nature seemed
quite thrown away in retirement, when it might have been
quite a lion to look at in any fine park. -
On entering a church in Wales, however insignificant,
we almost invariably found the ancient memorial of some
great families, many extinct and long forgotten, except by
historians and genealogists, whose memories serve as a
hortus siccus for preserving names that have fallen into de-
cay. We drove during Monday morning on an excursion
from Capel Curig to Llanroost, where, in the small chapel,
some very curious and interesting tombs of the Wynne fa-
mily, many hundred years old, are found. In several in-
stances, a likeness of the deceased was engraved on a large
brass plate, and imbedded in the stone, having much the
appearance of a door with a brass plate. An inscription
seemed to be carved out underneath; but however eloquent
and well-merited these panegyrics probably were, the lan-
guage and characters remain totally illegible. There is also
exhibited a stone coffin, in which the famous Llewelyn was
156 IIILL AND VALLEY.
buried ; the cavity measuring eight ſeet long. If the
Welsh prince actually filled it, he might have been a suit-
able colonel for Frederick the Great’s regiment of tall men.
Our drive between Capel Curig and Llanroost was enchant-
ing, and the day turning out fine, we proceeded in one of
those small light cars, universally to be found ready for
hire at all the Inns, drawn by a steady trust-worthy horse
of good character and great experience, all necessary when
he is to be trusted without a companion. A two-wheeled
vehicle seldom proves even tolerably safe, and travellers
addicted to them might take warning by Dr. Gregory, when
one of his patients offered to set him home in a gig, -he
declined the proposal with many thanks, saying he had
“seven gig-patients already on his list, to be visited that
morning.” I was much amused lately to hear of a travel-
ler who wore a cork leg being precipitated from a cab in
such a way, that the artificial limb was thrown completely
out of joint. When the country people flew forward to
render assistance, and heard the patient complaining
grievously of being injured on the side, a compassionate
old woman remarked, “Indeed, that can be nothing in com-
parison of your leg!”
The ripe fields of corn, as we passed along, might have
been coined into gold; the hedges was starred with roses;
the turfgemmed with daises; the tall pyramids of foxglove,
and the clusters of whin by the road side, were each and
all delightful; but beyond these were scattered villages,
sending up their clear blue smoke, till it melted away in the
distance, large trees casting a brilliant chequering of light
and shade on the ground beneath, and the hills almost touch-
ing a procession of gorgeous clouds, moving majestically
along in a constant variety of form and colouring. Few
pleasures in life are so nearly without alloy as that of con-
templating scenery so splendid as this. The mind seems
lost in attempting to conceive that infinite power which,
HILL AND WALLEY, 157
having called such magnificent scenes into existence, placed
living creatures there, not merely fitted to observe and en-
joy them now, but created to survive the very oldest and
the most permanent of all visible objects. Standing be-
tween a past and future eternity, what mere insects of an
hour should we feel, but for such words of Holy Scripture
as these, “The mountains shall depart, and the hills be re-
moved, but my kindness shall not depart from thee, neither
shall the covenant of my peace be removed, saith the Lord 7"
How many, after the toil and bustle of an anxious life,
might feel amidst these peaceful beauties of nature, as if a
dear and long-lost friend had been restored, or that the
days of childhood were come back 1 for in rural scenes and
mountain solitudes, the artificial pleasures of existence ap-
pear hackneyed and vulgar, while fond memory clings to
the remembrance of those youthful hours when threading
daises and fishing for minnows seemed the utmost sum of
human felicity, and no sorrow to be endured greater than
the death of a canary-bird. The joys and the afflictions
of life become greater in advancing to mature years, as
lights and shadows on earth grow stronger towards the
meridian day. Both are most intensely felt in the active
scenes of existence, and both seem again restored to com-
parative oblivion, when the evening of life is darkening to.
wards the obscurity of night.
We see, as day closes, how the majestic features of na-
ture are but faintly revealed in their silent repose; yet while
all below thus gives evidence of weakness and mortality,
the glorious firmament above claims that attention which
would be vainly bestowed on earthly objects already becom-
ing invisible; and it seems thus in old age, when the eyes
grow dim that they cannot see, and the ears heavy that
they cannot hear, still the gloomier the night is which ga-
thers around, the more do worldly objects become obscure
and unattractive, while to those who lift their eyes upwards,
14
158 HILL AND WALLEY,
eternal scenes of glory and brightness open, far removed
from all that is transient and changeable.
On our way to Llanroost we visited Gwydir Castle, one
of the most ancient in this country, and the first that ever
indulged its inhabitants in the luxury of glass windows.
How grievous was our disappointment to find this old for-
tress merely a tall, cold, grey tower, situated in the only re-
cess where a fine view could possibly be avoided. Perhaps
the founder agreed with a modern proprietor whose house
was about to be built lately, and when an officious friend
insisted on its being placed differently from what he intended,
in order to catch a better prospect, the owner replied, in a
tone of angry remonstrance, “I don’t want a view.” Could
houses be set in motion here, as Captain Hall so amusingly
describes at New-York, a great improvement might be
made on many ill-situated mansions which we passed lately,
and in that case most people would vote for giving Gwydir
Castle a step. We scrambled up to the little Gothic chapel
above, and there feasted our eyes upon a prospect so beau-
tiful, that it shews with what admirable taste the monks of
old selected the situation of their monasteries and churches.
Wherever a fragment remains, they are sure to command
the best view throughout the whole neighbourhood, which
was certainly the case here, as besides the charmingly
varied banks of the Conway, covered with a fleet of little
vessels, we saw a lovely Welsh background of mountains.
The handsome bridge at Llanroost, built by Inigo Jones,
a native of this village, boasts of one peculiarity, that
any person standing on the centre arch, can shake the
whole edifice. We summoned the old man, who has ap-
pointed himself shaker general to his Majesty, and when
he stood on the opposite side of the bridge, and struck
his shoulder against the parapet, I felt a corresponding
stroke from the parapet next to me, and experienced a
sensible vibration. The old man looked delighted to hear
HILL AND WALLE Y, * 159
this fact acknowledged with a suitable expression of asto-
nishment, and no Indian juggler could have appeared more
vain of his achievement.
We returned in the evening to Capel Curig, a few miles
from which stands the ancient tower of Dolwyddelan, with-
in whose walls a Welsh prince resided for many years,
though not allowed to reign because his nose had been ac-
cidentally broken, as in these unsettled times the right of
Succession could often be most unceremoniously thrown
aside. It is an ordinary expression, even in the present
day, when any one loses an inheritance, that “his nose has
been put out of joint P’ and we may very plausibly conjec-
ture that the saying originated at Dolwyddelan castle. The
Highland clans often formerly chose the best looking son
of their chief to succeed him. If that privilege still pre-
vailed universally, it would cause a great promotion among
younger brothers.
The more I see of this beautiful country, the more it
pleases me, and the farther we feel inclined to proceed.
You must endeavour, therefore, to experience while reading,
as I do while seeing, that instead of our interest and curi-
Osity wearing out, -l’appétit vient en mangeant.
160 HILL AND WAT, Lºg ſo
CHAPTER XI.
“But where to find the happiest spot below,
Who can direct, when all pretend to know.”
* GoLDSMITH.
MY DEAR Cousin,_A lady who had lived more than
half-a-century in Scotland, went abroad lately for two years;
and on her return, she became so proud of having travelled
on the continent, that, in listening to her conversation, you
would imagine she knew neither the manners nor customs of
that country. She even inquired once before a wondering
circle of old friends, whether they often had “such a severe
spring as this!” Certainly climate is our weak side, which all
who are censoriously disposed may attack with impunity
but I soon learn to love even the defects of a friend ; and when
faults are ascribed to our native land, we may at least reply,
as the French lady did to those who disparaged her lover, -
“Je l’aime parce que c’est lui.”
When we intended to hurry finally away from our rainy
Quarters at Capel Curig, it proved for the present impos-
sible. So many travellers made a rush out of the inn on
the first appearance of sunshine, that the horses had their
hands full; but at last we did effect our escape, and began
the morning with a circuitous tour round “steep Snowdon’s
shaggy side,” which looked so rugged, dark, and bare, in a
grey misty morning, that it could be compared to nothing
but an enormous cinder, while the summit, like smoke,
obscurely mingling with the clouds, seemed ready to
float away with them. The shape and proportions of Snow-
don are so grand and lofty, that nature probably determin-
ed to astonish us by this majestic mountain, and then broke
the mould in which it was cast. Bishop Heber perfectly
HILL AND VALLEY. - 161
eoincides in my admiration of Welsh scenery, and writes
enthusiastically on the subject, preferring it to any he ever
saw : and certainly nothing can appear more perfect in its
way than the desolate grandeur throughout the Pass of
Llanberris, -three miles long, hemmed in by Snowdon on
one side, and the Glidders, or Welsh Glaciers, opposite,
which rise so contiguously, that some parts of the chasm we
drove through, seemed not above 30 yards apart, and the
road had barely room to wind its way along. We felt like
a nut between the crackers, thus wedged in by two such
mountains, with masses of rock impending on each side,
ready to roll down and extinguish us. Gilpin on the Pic-
turesque, talks of “ill disposed mountains;” and certainly
these had a very treacherous aspect. There are people who
never go anywhere without seeing something to be afraid
of; and a little apprehension here might have been perfect-
ly justifiable, as our post-boy mentioned that the road is
sometimes entirely blocked up by an avalanche of rock,
while many large fragments were now suspended over-head
with little more apparent security than the sword of Dio-
nysius. How easily these tottering rocks might be safely
propped up in their present elevations, and rendered station-
ary for ever; yet if once they began a downward course, how
rapid and irresistible would be their descent ——An emblem
this of the sinner’s course when he once yields to temptation;
for a slight resistance may be sufficient at first, yet how
impossible for anything short of supernatural power after-
wards to stay his fall. Every one who seeks for high at-
tainments in holiness, may be compared to Sysyphus roll-
ing a stone up-hill; for not more certainly is the inclination
of every thing downwards, than of all Christians to decline
from their steadfastness. We were shewn a mass of rock
recently fallen, measuring thirty-six feet long; so it would
exactly have filled up your drawing-room. Not far from
that lay another immense stone, beneath the shelter of which
14*
162 HILL AND WALLEY.
an old woman formerly lived during several years, finding
herself amply accommodated, though she must have been
almost as entirely cut off from human intercourse in such a
place, as if buried like a toad in its centre. An old Welsh
proverb says, “whoever sleeps a night on Snowdon, will
awaken either a poet or a madman;” and as men have some-
times become both, it is not an experiment many would be
inclined to try, even with so lofty a subject to inspire them
as this new Parnassus. While we rolled ingloriously round
the base of Snowdon, I often wished myself mounted on its
summit, and envied the goats skipping among the precipices
without an idea of being giddy; but the ascent is one thou-
sand one hundred and ninety yards; while no one in scal-
ing a mountain will be of opinion with the Frenchman that,
“ce n'est que le premier pas qui conte.” Every step becomes
more difficult than its predecessor; so this desire to reach the
top of Snowdon must be added to the list of my unattainable.
wishes. “Though fixed on earth, aspiring to the skies P’
Moralists declare that the most miserable situation in life
is to covet great pre-eminence without energy to seek it,
and that those who have not active ambition can only find
peace in contented insignificance; therefore travellers not
possessing energy to perch themselves like eagles on the
summit of Snowdon, must be satisfied to measure its cir-
cumference, and delay a closer inspection of the upper re-
gions until they grow younger. Near the top of Snowdon
a celebrated giant-killer is buried,—not our old nursery
friend, “Jack,” though an equally redoubtable hero, who put
so many giants to death, that he made a coat of their beards !
rather a troublesome manufacture; but I once saw a pair
of gloves equally uncommon, which might have been worn
at the same time, made from the beards of the muscle
shell-fish, which sometimes grow about four inches long.
Near the bottom of Snowdon we were shewn an ancient
spinster, who has lived almost a century in single blessed-
HILL AND WALLEY, 163
ness, inhabiting her small cottage, perched upon a rock at
some distance off the road, and completely isolated from all
neighbours. - -
Oh! who would inhabit
This bleak world alone.
Luckily for her, witchcraft is no longer credited, or she
might have been in some jeopardy, as old age and lonely
habits were generally the chief evidences against a culprit,
and she could have brought few witnesses to vouch for the
blamelessness of her life, since no one ever visits there.
This Welsh recluse is quite an heiress, possessing a hun-
dred sheep of her own, which were scattered on the hill,
like snow-wreaths at a distance, and we heard that she lives
very comfortably in her solitary dwelling, “ contented wi'
little, and cantie wi' mair.” How seldom the great events
of this busy world can interest her | She scarcely knows
probably what king reigns in London now, while standing
far remote, at her cottage door, “unhurt amidst the war of
politics, the wreck of ministries, and the crush of elections.”
The death of a sheep must appear of more importance to
her than the death of a monarch; and the breaking of a
window pane a severer blow than the breaking of the Bank
of England. As long as Welsh flannel and worsted stock-
ings continue in fashion, she is above the vicissitudes of
life, and may carry on perpetual knitting in peace and se.
curity. Even amidst the warm current of domestic affec-
tion, how natural a tendency the human heart betrays to
freeze into selfishness; but when individuals, either from
choice or necessity, live entirely isolated, every event of
the day personally concerns themselves only, and there-
fore the consequence becomes inevitable, that their minds
get engrossed about trifles, and those trifles are exclusively
their own affairs. -
The celebrated Lakes of Llanberris rather disappoint-
164 HILL AND WALLEY.
ed us; they exhibit merely a few sheets of water, not
more than three miles long, considerably removed from
Snowdon, with scarcely a tree reflected in their wa-
ters, which seem clear and shallow. Not a boat was visi-
ble, and few traces of animal life or human society; but
probably good fishing abounds here, as a celebrated angler
observed of the Welsh lakes, that they contain two-thirds
water and one-third fish. Formerly a large shallow lake
like one of these, ornamented the grounds of the late eccen-
tric Lord —, who amused himself often with rowing a
party of guests into the centre, where a large bung was se-
cretly drawn out, which caused an alarming leak in the
boat. His Lordship’s visitors underwent all the agonies
of shipwreck, and at last the vessel merely grounded in a
few feet deep of water, whence the terrified victims were
speedily rescued, drenched, though not drowned, and pro-
bably admiring greatly the dry humour of their noble host.
We did not make quite so intimate an acquaintance with
the depth of Llanberris, but rapidly skirted along the banks.
An old Welsh fortress rises there, in a rather picturesque
situation; but the moss-grown walls, where “ruin greenly
dwelt,” excited only slight attention, until A all-
nounced it to be Dolbadern Castle, once a favourite re-
treat of Owen Glendower and his followers, where liberty
made her latest struggles for existence in Wales. What
magical power exists in association of ideas . We look
with indifference at an extensive plain, when suddenly it
acquires intense interest from discovering that this was the
field of a great battle. We admire a diamond necklace,
till some busy gossip betrays that the whole is merely an
imitation in paste, and though no change takes place in its
appearance, our feelings are instantly reversed; and an old
wreck of a castle like Dolbadern excites vague and in-
distinct consideration, till we hear that it became the scene
of imprisonment, conflict, or victory, to some patriotic hero,
HILL AND VALLEY. 165
whose name seems familiar to memory like that of Owen
Glendower, long the admiration and the terror of his nu-
merous foes, though more than four hundred years have
elapsed since “the place that once knew them has known
them no more. Their lives are as a tale that hath been told ;
their hatred and their love are lost.” One of the Welsh
native princes languished in confinement within these walls
during twenty years of hopeless imprisonment; but the cas-
tle looks now like a gaunt, bare skeleton, from which life,
strength, and cheerfulness are departed.
The palace of the feudal victor
Now serves for nought but for a picture.
The exploits of Owen Glendower are so universal a
theme in Wales, that if any author ever wants a hero for
his next historical novel, I could venture to recommend
him ; the scene laid at Dolbadern Castle, and the catas-
trophe, if sufficiently dismal, might most appropriately
take place in the Pass of Llanberris. The poet who plan-
ned a tragedy about Mount Vesuvius, where his heroine
entered, pursued by a stream of lava, might here substitute
an avalanche of rocks, though it would be apt to go off ra.
ther heavily in the representation.
Thirty years ago not an inn existed at Llanberris to af.
ford travellers a bed, or any refreshment except bread and
cheese; but so much has the fashion of touring increased
the comfort of tourists, that a splendid new hotel has been
erected here, called “The Princess Victoria,” where, instead
of being received by a landlord who spoke no English, as
was the case not very long since, we might now have fan-
cied ourselves returned to the Lakes of Cumberland. The
hours here are much modernized also ; for we arrived so
early as eight o’clock, when the whole household appeared
in a slip-shod, half-awake state, which induced us to post-
pone our appetites, and to take another stage before break-
166 HILL AND WALLEY,
fast. Bingley, in his tour through Wales, twenty years
since, did not find the beds very inviting, as he records
that having remonstrated with a landlady on the extraor-
dinary number of fleas, she gravely asserted the impossibi-
lity of discouraging these intruders, because whenever one
was killed, half a dozen more came to attend the funeral ;
but such days are over now ; for the Frenchman who
makes his livelihood by taming and training those very ac-
tive animals for public exhibition in London, would scarce-
ly find any recruits here at present with which to enter-
tain the fashionable world, by driving his carriages and
playing at whist. -
Our stage from Llanberris to Bedgelert was varied by
several toilsome walks up hill, for travellers in this neigh-
bourhood must lay their account with having occasion to
pedestrianize frequently ; and could we have consulted a
pedometer, it would certainly record our having achieved
more miles of walking then we can venture to claim, with-
out an authority so unimpeachable. Timid persons might
be inclined to walk down the descents also ; for it required
great reliance on the strength of our drag-chain to feel any
satisfaction in rattling along these mountain-paths, where
I planned at least a dozen of overturns which never took
place, and tried several times to guess how far we might
have to send for a doctor.
As travellers cannot live like cameleons, on air, it may be
conjectured, that after having completed two long stages
among the mountains, in a sharp appetizing morning,
breakfast became no unimportant affair; and seeing that
tourists on the Continent still keep up the good old custom
of recording their bill of fare at every inn, it ought to be a
matter of as much importance to know what was achieved in
a Welsh kitchen, as in one more remotely situated in Italy.
Accordingly it deserves commemoration, that we sat down
to a praiseworthy dejeune, consisting of fish a moment be-
EIILL AND WALLEY, 167
fore off the hook, eggs not laid above an hour since, moun-
tain butter, that tasted of the grass, and cream as rich as
any in London. Fearing the description of breakfast may
occupy more room, however, than that of Snowdon itself,
the rest shall be left to fancy. Here we discussed, over
our tea and toast, the romantic tradition of Llewelyn and
his celebrated greyhound, to which, like the dogs of Fre-
derick the Great, a monument has been raised commemo-
rating his virtues and his tragical end. It is a common
Welsh saying now, “I repent as deeply as the prince who
slew his dog;” and the story has lately been revived by a
beautiful song of Mrs. Arkwright's, sung with suitable
pathos in every drawing-room. -
Words composed for the music by Mr. Spencer, tell the
story with more effect than any prose could do; therefore
these lines being so appropriate, are subjoined :—
The spearman heard the bugle sound,
And cheerly smiled the morn,
And many a brach and mamy a hound
Obey'd Llewelyn's horm.
Yet still he blew a louder blast,
And gave a lustier cheer,
“Come, Gelert, come ; thou’rt mever last,
Llewelyn's horn to hear.” -
“But where does faithful Gelert roam,
The pride of all his race?
So true, so brave—a lamb at home—
A lion in the chase.”
That day Llewelyn little loved
The chase of hart or hare;
And scant and small the booty proved,
For Gelert was not there.
Unpleased, Llewelyn homeward hied,
When mear the portal seat
His truant Gelert he espied
Bounding, his lord to meet.
168
HILL AND WALLEY.
But when he reach'd the castle door,
Aghast the chieftain stood ;
The hound was all o’ersmear'd with gore;
His lips, his fangs, ran blood.
Onward in haste Llewelyn past,
And on went Gelert too;
And still where'er his eyes he cast
Fresh blood-gouts shock'd his view.
He call’d his child, no voice replied ;
He search'd in terror wild;
Blood, blood he found on every side,
But nowhere found his child.
“Base hound ! my child's by thee devour’d ſ”
The frantic father cried;
And to the hilt his vengeful sword
He plung'd in Gelert's side.
Aroused by Gelert’s dying yell,
Some slumb’rer waken'd migh;
What joy the parent's heart could tell
To hear his infant cry.
Nor scath had he, nor harm, nor dread,
But the same couch beneath
Lay a gaunt wolf, all torm and dead;
Tremendous still in death.
And what was then Llewelyn’s pain;
For now the truth was clear,
The gallant hound the wolf had slain,
To save Llewelyn's heir.
Now till great Snowdon's rocks grow old,
And cease the storm to brave;
A consecrated spot shall hold
The name of Gelert's grave.*
If gentlemen fond of coursing in the present day, were
to lament as deeply over the dogs they are so frequently
* See Tales about Wales.
HILL AND WALLEY. 169
obliged to condemn and execute, what a melancholy plea-
sure the sport would become.
Probably no travellers ever sit an hour within the walls
of this tidy little inn, who forget to talk of “Gelert’s
Grave,” while pitying his untimely fate; therefore if dogs
could highly appreciate, as men do, the value of posthu-
mous fame, it was worth while, by dying when he did, to ob-
tain so much notoriety. A person unacquainted with the
feelings of human nature, might suppose distinguished per-
sonages would care little more to be told they shall be cele-
brated after death, than if an individual could ascertain that
he is now a subject of occasional conversation in the moon ;
but as every natural instinct has advantages, the intense
love of fame, which renders death itself welcome, in order
to secure applause, is implanted in some minds for import-
ant purposes. Love of approbation seems a far more re-
spectable motive than love of money, the mere acquisition
of which is the meanest of all worldly impulses; but the
former has served as a stimulus to great actions often,
where a still higher and nobler aim was wanting.
The inn at Bedgelert hangs out as a sign, the goat, with
this motto, “My country is a rock.” At another place on
the road we passed the “The Heart and Trumpet,” rather
an unaccountable union of incongruities. There is like-
wise a little miniature hotel in Wales, called “The Rock
and Fountain,” offering but little enticement to bon vivants;
and in a small village we perceived an inscription, prov-
ing the schoolmaster abroad when it first claimed attention,
as the inscription was spelled thus, “The Stag and Hunds.”
Our drive from Bedgelert over the bridge of Aberglaslyn
led through one of the grandest and most romantic scenes
in Wales. There a gentleman with his sketch-book
was perched upon the very spot I would have chosen for
taking a view, while it became impossible not to envy him
for finding leisure to sit there and admire such a scene of
15
170 HILL AND WALLEY.
magnificence. These towering hills, like the wall of the
world, seemed as if nothing lay beyond their inaccessible
heights, nor did we yet observe any visible outlet : there
were precisely the number of trees necessary to dress the
landscape, without overloading it, and the river resembled
all mountain streams, a lively, dashing, noisy torrent of
clear bright crystal, foaming and tumbling in ceaseless vi-
vacity, while, as a contrast, the grave sombre rocks stood
in gloomy silence, tortured and fretted into a thousand odd
contortions by the dancing waters, which sing and roar a
perpetual concert amidst these dark and melancholy ca-
verns. How often married people appear quite as ill assorted
the lady a lively hoiden, graceful and capricious; the gen-
tleman cold, stern, and apparently insensible, amidst all her
fascinations. -
In this stream a famous salmon-leap occurs of twelve
feet high, where fish may be seen springing up like perfect
harlequins, and the sport below seems excellent for those
addicted to the rod. This was a scene in which it would
have been delightful to linger a week, and we were out of
sight in ten minutes. It is to be hoped, however, that we
are immortalized in the gentleman’s portfolio of drawings ;
who will undoubtedly publish his personal narrative, con-
taining a view of Aberglaslyn, with an open carriage on
the bridge, and two picturesque figures standing up in atti-
tudes of admiration and surprise. We seldom stopped to
commit any landscapes to paper, as in travelling many
might find it difficult to decide whether the greatest misery
of human life is to be the companion of an inveterate
sketcher or a botanist.—In the one case he stops at every
ruin, bridge, tree, or cascade, whether the weather be hot
or cold, wet or dry, and thinks any one insensible to all the
finer feelings of nature who could either shiver or tire.—
In the other instance, no discussion is so interesting, and
no story so exciting, but you may expect to See a botanist
HILL AND WALLEY. 171
break through the very midst of it to rush up a bank or
plunge into a ditch, seizing triumphantly hold of some near-
ly invisible weed, and leaving you like the Beef-eater in the
Critic, with a half-uttered word never to be completed.
We met on this road an incredible number of pedestrian
tourists, “walking gentlemen,” with their heavy baggage
tied, like that of Mr. Dowlas, in a pocket-handkerchief, and
slung over the shoulder ; while they proceeded along with
a look of independent enjoyment perfectly enviable. You
were entertained formerly by the story of a poor lady, in
decayed circumstances, reduced to calling shrimps in the
street, who said, she “only hoped nobody would hear her;”
and if I could also secure no one's observing me, it might
have been most agreeable to pedestrianize the rest of our
tour. Some mechanical method will probably be invented,
during the march of improvement, to supersede the exertion
of travelling in this way, walking perhaps by steam, with
a bottle smoking at each foot. “If it were not for the
honour of the thing, I would as soon walk,” said a lady,
when the bottom of her sedan-chair ſell out; and often
while we passed these “fatigue parties” on their march, it
seemed rather a tempting example to follow, on account of
the facilities they must enjoy for searching out every cre-
vice and nook by the wayside, besides the advantage of
conversing with the country people. Three pedestrian
tourists, mentioned that they amused themselves during
their progress by constantly assuming fictitious characters
at every different inn on the road. At one place they
personated strolling players, at another fortune-tellers, and
at a third, the elder represented a tutor, and the others, two
rather unruly pupils, whom he endeavoured to keep in or-
der without much success; but so protracted a masquerade
must have been rather tedious.
Near this route lay a valley, which A never ceased
afterwards to lament our not exploring ; and as I always
172 IHILL AND WALLEY,
discovered that those places were best worth seeing which
bore the strangest names, no doubt there was much to re-
gret in not threading through the vale of Festiniogg. Some
great connoisseur once declared it the most perfectly beau-
tiful part of Wales; but a similar panegyric has probably
been pronounced, by different writers, on every fine land-
scape we saw, as people are apt, when pleased, to deal in
superlatives. Perhaps, on second thoughts, their enthu-
siasm might receive a check, like that of a gentleman who
used to describe any ci-devant beauty whom he remembered
at court, beginning his sentence in a tone of emphasis,
quite out of keeping with the very tame conclusion,--
“She was without exception - - - - - one of the most perfect
beauties in the world;” and probably Festiniogg is, with-
out exception, one of the most splendid valleys in Wales,
though we left it to “waste its sweets on the desert air.”
Possibly the etymology for Wales may originally be deriv-
ed from vales, on account of the innumerable valleys which
intersect that whole country; it may since have been gra-
dually corrupted into Wales; while now, the cockneys of
London, who would of course be the first to depart from
this ancient designation, have also been the first to relapse,
while talking of the “mountains in Wales.” Those authors
and tourists, who weary the patience of readers with a pre-
liminary dissertation, in every place they enter, on the ori-
gin conjectured for its name, from the Saxon, Danish, Nor-
man, Latin, or Celtic, may perhaps hereafter discuss this
supposition more fully ; and though the subject seldom ex-
cites much interest among the inhabitants of a place, still
less concerns travellers, and least of all readers, yet the
Society of Antiquaries have occasionally tolerated less
plausible theories and less important discussions.
Having arrived at the comfortable inn of Tan-y-bulch,
we were attracted by the beauty of a place on the neigh-
bouring hill, and after walking in that direction, it realized
EIILL AND VALLEY. 173
our highest expectations ; the proprietor, Mr. Oakley,
having shewn great taste in the scenery, machinery, and
decorations. The house, which seems very ancient, is
built on a platform half-way up the hill, whence a most su-
perb landscape became visible, and, to use a technical
phrase, it “ composed well ;” the mountains of bare rock
and of rich verdure being finely contrasted,—the river
meandering below and reflecting them on its surface,—the
terrace where we stood covered with a tapestry of roses,
and the park diversified with noble wood. We passed
along a beautiful approach, in which the large trees grace-
fully fanned us with their branches, and the whole scene
was bathed in rich glowing sunshine, like a water-coloured
drawing the moment after receiving its first general wash
of warm tints.
During our stroll in this romantic scene of beauty and
seclusion, we encountered a most unſoreseen instance of
civilization, which in so remote a district could scarcely
have been anticipated. I observed for some time a de-
crepit old woman slowly approaching to where we stood,
but when arrived within some yards, and about to speak,
she suddenly fell down in a most alarming fit. A boy and
a girl who happened to be near, rushed instantly forward
and supported her, while we also flew to afford every pos-
sible assistance. Seeing the case very desperate, A
hastened to Tan-y-bulch, while I remained to take charge
of the unfortunate sufferer, whose jaw had already dropped,
and her eyes turned round in her head, till nothing be-
came visible but the white. Assisted by the two children,
I rapidly untied every string about her dress-we sprink-
led water over her face, and the little girl got some
money to run for restoratives ; though scarcely a hope
remained that the poor old creature could survive till she
returned. A ’s absence seemed endless, but at last he
re-appeared with our landlord from the inn, a remarkably
15%
174 HILL AND WALLEY,
sensible, intelligent man. Immediately on seeing the old
woman, he said some sentences in Welsh, and I was start-
led at the harsh, angry tone in which they were uttered,
while the inn-keeper seemed scarcely able to help laughing
at my look of consternation. Could she possibly be
drunk 7 This was the first idea which occurred to me.
On that score however he acquitted her, but explained the
whole affair, which was a trick she and her two grandchil-
dren frequently got up, and acted to the very life, when
travellers were passing, in order to obtain money ! If this
had occurred in London, such an imposture might have
been expected, or even in Edinburgh I could scarcely
have been so easily duped ; but to be out-witted by an old
Welsh-woman, in her hat and knitting-pins, secmed morti-
fying beyond endurance ; and when she rose up to walk
away, I felt very much like Clown in a Pantomime, when
Harlequin gives the power of locomotion to his tea-pot,
HILL AND VALLEY, 175
CHAPTER XII.
“Sir! There is no scenery equal to Fleet Street.”
Boswell's JoHNSON.
My DEAR Cousin, You know the old proverb, “On me
vaut pas plus que ce que l’on veut valoir,” and if this be ap-
plicable to the ambition of correspondents as well as of
politicians, my diligence lately ought to raise me five per
cent. in your estimation; as I unceasingly perambulate
the country all day, and sit up half the night to send you
a sketch of our adventures.
We drove on Wednesday from Tan-y-bulch to Harlech,
over a new, or at least an improved line of road, which
possessed the rare merit, in so hilly a country, of being
level as a river. The chief objection of this modern fa-
shion of avoiding ascents is, that travellers frequently
lose the view entirely, because a wall or a hedge hems in
the whole prospect; whereas formerly, taking the ups-and-
downs as they came, we were amply rewarded by gaining
an eye-full of scenery, such as rewarded the most tedious
progress. How inseparably exertion and pleasure are
tied together in this world,—“ease, when courted most,
farthest retires;” for, as Solomon says, “all things are full
of labour,” and we generally find most enjoyment given
where most trouble has been taken.
The Welsh used formerly to be as skilful as the South
Americans in using a lasso, to catch their native wild
ponies, which abounded then among the hills. These use-
ful animals are no longer to be seen however in primitive
freedom on Snowdon, any more than the sheep on Ben-
Lomond, which a French sportsman fired at, saying they
were “wild moutons.” Some years since, a farmer in
176 IIILL AND WALLEY.
Wales, who had successfully thrown the noose over one of
these powerful little ponies, unfortunately forgot to uncoil
the other end of the rope from his own body, so he was
dragged to the ground, and drawn along the high-road,
till the terrified and infuriated animal sprung over a lofty
cliff, beneath which the mangled remains of both were
aſterwards discovered, with scarcely a vestige remaining
of their original forms.
One of the most splendidly situated ruins in Wales is
Harlech Castle, which stands upon an abrupt eminence
of some hundred feet, rising directly out of a plain, once
covered by water, though now the sea has retreated for
good, and left an extensive flat, which is under cultivation.
Tout homme est né marin, and a few would not have been
exhilarated with the prospect from Harlech Castle, dis-
playing Cardigan Bay, edged with a broad sparkling belt
of sandy beach, skirting many miles along the coast, and
contrasted beautifully with the deep blue colour of the sea,
scarcely broken by a ripple on its surface. No want of
life and animation, however, appeared on the scene, as a
countless flock of sea-gulls wheeled in the air, dived in the
water, and filled the shore with constant vociferation.
Certainly these are the happiest little beings in the world ;
and I watched in untiring delight a large gossipping party,
sitting upon the ocean, close together, flapping their wings,
dipping under water, and chattering with such incessant
volubility, that they were audible from the road, apparent-
ly as merry and important as a knot of misses assembling
for a ball. How strange that some sportsmen, when no
game is in season, would have found pleasure in sending
death and destruction amid such a scene of cheerfulness as
this; and yet many a good shot would feel no scruple in
scattering those gay, happy creatures, maimed and flutter-
ing with agony on the wide ocean, to serve no other ob-
ject than the amusement of playing at “the barbarous
EIILL AND VALLEY. 177
game of death.” Wherever Providence gives joy and
ease, it seems like Satan himself to enter and destroy it.
I often think, if future penalties were ordered as heathens
supposed, so that each person shall suffer hereafter a pu-
nishment precisely adapted to his actions here, how many
thousand deaths a sportsman would die. People really
deserve to endure some equivalent for whatever unnecessa-
ry pain they inflict; and though all flesh is given for the
use of man, yet a verdict of bird-slaughter should be
brought in against those who destroy animal life merely
for the sake of witnessing pain and suffering. The sea-
gulls are peculiarly attached to each other, and afford
assistance at all hazards to any one of their kind which
falls into danger. Even the report of a gun cannot inti-
midate them from flying close to the enemy, screaming
in mournful accents, and exerting every manoeuvre to
shield a wounded associate from notice. They have
actually been observed to unite in numbers, and drag a
mutilated companion away ; and it is an ascertained fact,
where they abound in great numbers, that a sentinel regu-
larly keeps watch from some elevated point during the
day. On one well-known occasion, when several of these
watchmen were successively shot, as an experiment to test
their perseverance, a constant succession of volunteers
enlisted for this forlorn hope, and remained on the conspi-
cuous point of danger, till an unerring bullet one by one
destroyed them ; yet others immediately supplied the
vacant place. It might have been almost expected that
brave men would sympathize with so courageous a spirit,
and spare those in this respect resembling themselves.
Harlech Castle, on Cardigan Bay, is twin brother of
Carnarvon and Conway, to which it bears a strong family
likeness, being ornamented with very similar round towers
at each corner ; the entrance is likewise between two
circular turrets, and an extensive open court stands in the
178 EIILL AND WALLEY,
middle. This was the last fortress in Wales that held out
for Charles; and the garrison did not yield till only
twenty-eight men were left alive. One tower is called
after Margaret of Anjou, who found a refuge here during
her adversity; and we saw some frightful dungeons within
the walls, which had probably served as a prison and a
tomb to many brave princes and bards during those early
times when it was as customary to shut men up twenty or
thirty years in darkness and solitude, as now to lock up a
rebellious child during ten minutes in a closet.
The principal staircase here had entirely fallen down,
which I was not perfectly inconsolable to perceive, because
in every ruin there generally is a narrow tottering ascent,
scarcely practicable, and quite in the dark, which tourists
are expected to grope and scramble up at all hazards. If
the stairs of every ancient keep-tower I have mounted in
my time could be piled one above another, they would go
a considerable way towards reaching the moon. A– at
last succeeded in rummaging out what he considered a
tolerable flight of steps; indeed he cares so little to en-
counter a mile of ruinous perpendicular stairs, that if he
passed a day on the tread-mill it would apparently be no
penance. I was on the point of yielding to my fate, and
took le premier pas, when the guide unexpectedly interpos-
ed, declaring, that though “some gentlemen of great stea-
diness had been known to reach the summit of that tower
in safety, he never could scale it himself, and dared not un-
dertake now to accompany us on the enterprise.” This very
rational view of the subject appeared so convincing, that I
gladly retraced the three steps we had already mounted,
while A– unflinchingly proceeded to escalade the castle
with a degree of steadiness that an engineer might emulato,
and soon emerged on the highest pinnacle of a crumbling
battlement, whence he probably saw a very extended hori-
zon of Sea. The intermediate time I passed in a splendid
HILL AND WALLEY. 179
banqueting room, seventy-five ſeet long, and lighted by a
row of beautiful windows, looking towards what had been
a very deep moat. It was curious, while thus left “alone
with my glory,” to fancy all the scenes of mirth and re-
velry which enlivened those silent, desolate halls, in gay
old times, when the brave knights and warriors of Eng-
land kept dominion here. Now the roof has fallen in,
and long grass waves upon the floor, as if all who ever
lived here lay buried beneath the turf.
Their lights are fled, their garlands dead,
And all but me departed.
Lord Byron's last man scarcely felt more solitary, while I
put myself back a few centuries, and thought of those who
lived and acted once on this very spot, where all the grand-
er features of nature remained the same to my sight as
formerly to theirs. g -
One of the ancient heroes, who acted as constable of
Harlech Castle five hundred years ago, distinguished him-
self at the battle of Poictiers, and cut the head off the
French king's horse with a battle-axe ; in memory of
which exploit the Black Prince ordered, at the expense
of the crown, that a dish of meat should be laid be-
fore the axe every day in this banqueting hall, and then
distributed to the poor. Eight yeomen guarded the mess,
for which they received a stated salary; and the practice
was continued till Elizabeth’s day, when probably some
Joseph Hume of those times thought it an unnecessary
burden on the public purse.
We returned to the inn, which is embellished with beau-
tiful gardens, commanding a noble view of Cardigan bay.
The white and foaming waves on a shore like this are
called by the Welsh “mermaid’s sheep ;” and the invisi-
ble shepherdess certainly drove her flocks now with cease-
ISO filli, AND WALi, EY a
less diligence. Sir Joseph Banks once jocularly recom-
mended that naturalists should fish for mermaids, using a
comb and a looking-glass for baits. It is an old joke
against the female sex, their fondness for mirrors ; and
these apparently fabulous beings seem never to be observ-
ed without one, though scientific writers have not attempt-
ed to account for the existence of a submarine glass ma-
nufactory, where at least kelp may be abundantly supplied.
Travellers become slaves to their own arrangements
when they fix plans for a journey, resolving that these shall
be adhered to. We could have passed a day at Harlech
without tiring, and the inn seems so well kept, that it de-
serves encouragement. The landlords in Wales all consi-
der themselves gentlemen, and not a few claim descent from
the Welsh princes, while the land-ladies are so given to hos-
pitality, that even when we did not alight, they frequently
brought a tray of biscuits to the carriage window. At no
place did every thing appear more comfortable than here,
though we could not even give our host the pleasure of see-
ing us at dinner, having positively promised each other to
reach Barmouth that evening, which, after a cheerful drive
along the coast, we consequently did, at the very hour
when, according to appointment, we fell due. The sea-
prospect continued truly grand and majestic, though in
such scenery there must always be a certain degree of
sameness not found during an inland journey, because the
shore is generally like this, all shaven and shorn, destitute
alike of trees or crops. Nevertheless such a stage occa-
sionally becomes very enlivening and delightful. To
“watch the pulses of the mighty deep”—to feel the fresh
cool breeze, never breathed by a living mortal before,
and to admire the distant ships dotting the horizon, or the
nearer vessels dancing their graceful minuets, with white
and flowing sails stretched before the breeze. There could
scarcely be a brighter picture of joy and prosperity than
HILL AND WALLEY. 181
the vessels we saw, with, as the poet says, “pleasure at
the helm,” not always the saſest pilot on shore.
The sea, more than any other object, gives an idea of
eternity; “without a mark, without a bound,” it reaches
beyond the power of vision, and in its wonderful extent
brings to mind how great and marvellous are the works of
Him “whose dominion is from sea to sea ;”—who is “hea-
ven, earth, and ocean’s Lord ;”—“ who hath measured the
waters in the hollow of his hand, and meted out heaven
with the span, and weighed the mountains in scales, and the
hills in a balance.”
Barmouth is a very singular town, perched like an eagle's
nest upon the rocks, and looking extremely odd and fantastic
at a distance. The houses, placed on the slope of a very
steed hill, are piled one above another, the ground floor of
the highest being level with the garret of its neighbour, and
they seem all gazing on tiptoe over each other’s shoulders.
The whole town looks as if it had been rushing down the
mountain side, and suddenly made an irregular pause, by
which the houses are confusedly huddled and jostled toge-
ther, but with a bright evening sun glaring upon all the
windows, forming a brilliant illumination, it seemed a very
cheerful, riante little sea-port, where many a Sinbad has
embarked in Search of adventures, or returned to relate
them by his peaceful fireside.
On driving up to the inn, we were surprised to find ap-
parently the whole population assembled before the door,
and evidently in a state of considerable excitement. Could
it be some very illustrious arrival which had preceded
ours perhaps a distinguished foreign prince, or possibly
the Princess Victoria, who was said to be then travelling in
Wales. My expectations rose, when we observed the uni-
versal expression of eager, intense curiosity, marked on
every countenance ; and scarcely any thing could have
equalled our hopes, when suddenly the bubble burst.
16
182 IIIT,L AND WATLLEYo
Our landlord explained, that the whole mob were collect-
ed merely to watch a black man whom he pointed out,
with a white towel round his head. This personage had
undertaken, for a bet, to roll a large wheel, and to run be-
side it, without stopping, or letting it fall, in front of the
inn, during two hours. “But half of his heavy task was
done,” and meantime we could scarcely find any one to
shew us a room, or to take an order for dinner, on ac-
count of the commotion which this wonderful man had ex-
cited.
Finding it a vain attempt to sail against the stream, we
resolved to take our own share of the gaieties, and Sallied
forth on a tour of observation. Nothing could look more
enlivening than the groups of gazers collected on every
eminence from which they might catch a glimpse of the ex-
hibition, while probably each spectator could have perform-
ed the whole achievement quite as well himself. The wheel
seemed light and well balanced, but any one else would as
soon have attempted to guide the wheel of fortune as that
which was turned by the man of colour, who seemed
neither out of breath nor fatigued, when an hour after-
wards he gained the prize, and closed his career annidst
enthusiastic acclamations from the surrounding multitude.
It is amusing to see what astonishment may be occasioned
in one country by contrivances common in another. The
surprise with which we observe the feats of an expert
juggler can scarcely equal that felt by a party of New
Zealanders who once seized an old admiral, intending to
scalp him ; but when his wig came off in their hands, the
whole tribe instantly worshipped their prisoner as a super-
natural being.
In the evening a scene of gaiety took place on the beach
at Barmouth, equal to any thing that could have been got
up on the Continent. If a Frenchman had looked on, as
we did, he might have fancied himself at home ; for the
HILL AND WALLEY. 183
remark would have been by no means applicable here, made
on such an occasion elsewhere, “Les Angloises se réjouis-
saient tristement, selon la contume de leurs pays.” A num-
ber of villagers and sailors assembled near the inn, and
danced with spirit and vivacity to the sound of a Welsh
harp, while neither confusion nor intoxication followed,
but all dispersed in perfect peace and harmony at an ear-
ly hour. If relaxation and amusement on such a plan of
Sober moderation could be more frequently encouraged
among the lower orders everywhere, it might produce many
advantages. No one can do otherwise than lament that such
numbers resort for cheerful society to the ale-house, even
before having acquired an incurable taste for ardent spirits,
because they are unaccustomed to find exhilaration else-
where ; but dancing on the village green affords a safe and
wholesome outlet for the exuberant vivacity of young
people, and prevents their acquiring worse habits, by
spending time and money on the road to ruin. Dancing,
like all other things, is only evil in excess, when leading to
irregular hours, idle dissipation, or vain display, but under
proper restraints, no more actual harm arises from it than
from running. We read in Scripture, that when the pro-
digal son returned, he found “music and dancing ” in his
father’s house; and Solomon says there is “a time to
mourn and a time to dance.” All things tend to evil; the
very medicines we swallow are poison ; there is ex-
cess even in sclf-denial, in abstinence, in exercise, in mu-
sic, in study, in sleep, in education, in Solitude, in Society,
—all are good in themselves, but to be used in moderation ;
and even wine, the bane of thousands, which, from the
time of Noah to the present day, has been abused into a
source of sin and wretchedness, is nevertheless not entire-
ly to be banished from the world, but may be allowed to
those who need it “for their stomach’s sake and their often
infirmities.” It is a much greater test of a man’s Chris-
184 IIILL AND WALLEY,
tian firmness to take things in moderation, than to abstain
from them entirely, as nothing exemplifies more obviously
our state of probation in this life, than the constantly recur-
ring necessity for curbing extreme indulgence in any thing
however innocent, and in discriminating, by a well-exer-
cised conscience, what duty allows, and what constitutes
excess. As Lord Bacon says, “Love of power in excess
caused the angels to fall ; love of knowledge in excess
caused our first parents to fall; but in charity there is no
excess.”
We enjoyed a long walk on the beach at Barmouth after
dinner, admiring a fine glowing afternoon, when the Sun
seemed to sink red hot into the Irish Sea, putting the sky
and the ocean into a perfect blaze of the brightest rose
colour, which brought to mind that fine passage in the
Revelations, describing “a sea of glass, mingled with
fire.” If a rational man could have been supposed, for
the first time in his life, to see the sun thus descending into
night, how little it would have been possible to convince
his reason, that in a few hours the same glorious orb would
again irradiate the earth ; and equally extraordinary, as
well as equally certain, is that resurrection from the grave
which we are promised, and permitted to anticipate. The
most natural of all heathen superstitions is that which ima-
gines the sun to be an object of worship ; and even Mil-
ton puts such an idea into the language of Lucifer, when
he attributes to his awful character that sublime apostrophe
to the orb of day, beginning thus:--
“Oh I thou, that with surpassing glory crown'd,
Look'st from thy sole dominion, like the God
Of this new world } }
On the shores of the Persian Gulf, thousands assemble
every morning to welcome a return of the rising sun, and
prostrate themselves with one accord at its first appear.
EIILL AND WALLEY. 185
ance, while they cast little offerings of sugar into the sea.
as marks of homage. It would be well for Christians to
remember in their closets as faithfully and regularly at the
dawn of day, that “Sun of Righteousness” which men
are born to worship. His visible presence no longer ap-
pears on the earth, but we must prepare to rejoice hereafter
at his glorious return. The material world is not in a
darker chaos without the natural sun, than the mental
world would have been without the light of the gospel.
Before yon sum arose,
Stars cluster'd through the sky;
But, oh! how dim, how pale were those
To his one burning eye
So truth lent many a ray
To bless the pagan's might;
But, Lord, how weak, how cold were they
To thy one glorious light !
16%
1S6 HILL AND WALLE Ko
CHAPTER XIII.
“A Turkey carpet was his lawm,
Whereon he loved to bound.”
CowPER.
My DEAR Cousin, Some learned physician Once re-
marked, that our frame of mind during the day is entirely
guided by our first feelings on awakening ; and it is cu-
rious to observe that no human being can rouse us from
sleep without occasioning a startling surprise ; while on
the contrary, Providence, who does all things with such
tender consideration for our weakness, restores us from
deep repose, as soon as nature is refreshed, and under His
eare we calmly glide into consciousness, with perfect
peace and Serenity. How many thousand times has this
happened to each of us; but we only appreciate blessings
by their loss ; and the peculiar comfort of former morn-
ings might never have occurred to my thoughts, had it
not been contrasted, with my reveillé to-day, when I was
called at the very dawn of light to hurry forward on our
journey.
In all books upon early rising, indolent people are tor.
mented with calculations of how many hours in a year may
easily be rescued from sleep and devoted to active employ.
ment, by getting up soon, till at last we feel almost inclined
to try the plan of a philosopher who limited himself to rest-
ing every alternate night; but those who lengthen their
days in this way, shorten their lives, by expending the
principal of their strength instead of the interest; there-
fore, even early rising should have its limits, which I felt
IIILL AND WALLEY. 187
particularly inclined to acknowledge, when we were in full
career from Barmouth towards Dolgelly before five in the
morning :—
They that would thrive, must rise by five;
They that have thriven, may lie till seven.
These lines even go on to say something about “those
doing more who rise at four ;” but the hint is quite un-
deserving of notice. Though seldom able thoroughly to
admire any place that I see before breakfast, the beauties
of this road were quite irresistible, as it skirted round a
graceful arm of the sea, which had penetrated through so
wild a scene of Alpine magnificence, that the shore resem-
bled a gigantic ocean of tempestuous waves suddenly turn-
ed into stone. If we could have summoned a bugle or a
bagpipe, to awaken the echoes among these precipices;
nothing can be more like enchantment in such mountain
scenery, than to hear rock answering to rock and hill to
hill, as if they had suddenly come to life, and been endow-
ed with voices; but we could only admire in silence. Hills
alternately bare or wooded are scattered around in pictur-
esque confusion, while the black heights of Cader Idris tow-
er above like the monarch of them all. This mountain
was named after a giant Prince called Idris, who retired
here frequently to study astronomy ; and in so lofty an ob-
servatory, raising his head above the clouds, he might now
and then have pricked new constellations in the skies, or
altered some of the old ones if they did not please him.
His bed is still shewn, being a pile of stones some hundred
yards long; and near the road lies a small piece of water,
named, on account of three prodigious rocks which are
placed there, “The lake of the three grains.” Tradition,
always to be believed, relates, that those stones accident-
a ally got into the shoe of Idris, causing him so much incon-
venience whilst walking, that he shook them out near the
188 HILL AND WALLEY.
lake, when stopping there to drink. The whole story is so
perfectly natural, that it cannot but be credited, consider-
ing how often we all in turn suffer discomfort from the
very common circumstance which annoyed this gigantic
astronomer. -
Nothing would make travellers estimate more highly
their obligations to Telford and Macadam, than perform-
ing a stage on the road between Dolgelly and Machlwyd,
which is left almost entirely in a state of nature, without any
of the modern improvements, by which tourists now always
go upon velvet. The American corduroy roads are proba-
bly smooth in comparison of those we experienced this day
in going down the shelf of a mountain, on what seemed like
the rough channel of a cascade, or a flight of stairs with no
balustrade. I had a ready-made scream prepared for use
during a progress of two miles, while it appeared as if each
turn of the wheels must inevitably be our last. Some phi-
losopher observes, that life is made up of vain hopes and vain
apprehensions ; therefore it ought to compensate for the
former being so frequently disappointed, that the latter
also turn out sometimes mistaken, as was happily the
case on this occasion, when we descended to the banks
of the river Onion, most appropriately flowing through
the land of leeks, and here fertilizing a fine productive
country.
It was at Dolgelly that the last Welsh Parliament as-
sembled under Owen Glendower, after which all the M. Ps.
adjourned sine die, -accepting the Chiltern Hundreds, or
whatever else was the form when vacating their seats,
never to return. Here also, Owen Glendower murdered
his cousin Howel, former proprietor of this country, and
concealed his body in the trunk of a tree, since called
“The haunted oak.” His widow remained inconsolable,
and unable to penetrate the mystery of her husband's dis.
appearance; till the Prince on his death-bed became peni-
HILL AND WALLEY. 1S9
tent, and sent a friend to confess for him the whole transac-
tion, after which the skeleton was found and buried.
The Welsh language seems so nearly similar to Gaelic,
that I often felt inclined to give the common Highland salu-
tation in passing along the road, especially seeing the land-
scape around so exactly on a similar pattern. We hurried on
from mountain to mountain in splendid succession; and but
for the women wearing their little hats like men's, instead
of the graceful plaid, might have supposed ourselves in
Ross-shire. The harp here is a tolerable substitute for the
bagpipe, and it is remarkable that the Irish have an infe-
rior imitation of both harp and bigpipe, while the English
can boast of no national instrument whatever; nor have
they any national music ; while the Welsh, Scotch, and Irish
each excel in a style of harmony, as peculiar to themselves
as their accent in speaking. A few airs, perhaps co-eval
with the days of Ossian, are not quite identified to either
country, such as Gamachree Molly and Robin Adair, which
occasion a vehement feud between the bards of these
different nations; though it would be difficult to ascertain
who first lighted the candle, when each claims the honour
of having illuminated the rest.
When George IV. visited Scotland, having one day tast-
ed a haggis, his Majesty wished to say something polite to
a Scotch laird, and mentioned that he had dined lately on
an excellent dish, “a boiled bagpipe ſ” rather light diet
certainly,–as in that case he must have lived upon air.
In a violent dispute some years ago upon the subject of
national tunes, a Highland piper thought himself triumph-
ant, and blew such a blast of music as had not been heard
for ages; upon which his enraged opponent seized a carv-
ing-knife, and stabbed the bag of the pipes, so that they
could be played no more. The harp however is not sub-
ject to vicissitudes like these, having more strings to its
190 HIII, L AND WALLEY.
bow, though never likely to make as much noise in the
world as the “loud pibroch swelling on the gale.”
Adieu for the present;-my miscellaneous lucubrations
will remind you of Cowper's lines, so applicable to many
observers of life and manners :–
“The jackdaw sees this round about
The world, with all its motley rout,
Church, army, music, law,
And says—what says he 3–Cawl"
HILL AND WALLEY , * 191
CHAPTER XIV.
“Gwryndch y Llandrygynth wydfrnzigg brolch,
Slmmwaer cwrwynddmawr dywrcoed rwrcleh.”
WELSH BARD, vol. xix. p. 654.
My DEAR Cousin, Gray the poet maintained, that if
any individual would write down every day all he or she
had seen and heard, it must, in whatever hands, prove in-
teresting ; of which opinion my letters may serve either
as a contradiction or a confirmation, according to the ver-
dict given after perusal. Certainly, when wishing to en-
tertain children, no fiction seems half so successful as a
full, true, and particular account of all we have done dur-
ing that very day; beginning with the usual perplexity
about which dress to wear, describing at what end your egg
was broken for breakfast, and how twenty minutes was
spent in a shop, considering which of two boxes of pins it
would be best to purchase. A circle of little wondering
faces will listen to all this, as if their very lives depended
on the result; and undoubtedly the true secret of creating
universal interest is, to be extremely minute and particular
in relating adventures. If a newspaper paragraph men-
tions that a lady was thrown from her horse yesterday and
killed on the spot, we scarcely think of the accident a se-
cond time; but if the editor farther tells that it happened
near Grosvenor gate, that she took luncheon with a party
of friends during the morning in high spirits, that she
was engaged to a ball in the evening, -that a gentleman
observed her gracefully cantering along five minutes before,
followed by a groom at some distance,—and that her habit
was blue; the interest rises with every particular, till at
last we feel quite sufficiently affected by so melancholy a
192 HILL AND WALLEY.
catastrophe. Luckily I have nothing equally tragical for
which to claim your attention, as we are now in the most
cheerful, animated, bustling scene for a comedy that can
be imagined, at the little marine city of Aberistwyth in
Cardiganshire, a charming place, which seems peculiarly
calculated for the promotion of health and happiness.
This town is built like the celebrated city of Alexandria,
shaped like a bow, while the line of the Sea represents the
string.—The whole intermediate space was crowded by a
multitude of equestrians, pedestrians, and every variety of
carriage-architecture, from a London barouche to a bath-
ing-machine. Groups of children plunging in the sea,
looked as if they were the only persons who had anything
to do.
The ruinous old castle of Aberistwyth flanks the cres.
cent at one end, and a splendid new hotel terminates it at
the other, the intermediate houses being handsome lodg-
ings, all apparently occupied, and every window peopled
with gay parties, who seemed as if they were enjoying a
perpetual jubilee. The inn being crowded, we had no im-
mediate prospect of dinner, for landlords have unluckily
not yet adopted the Irishman’s expeditious plan, who wished
to be so rapid in feeding his guests, that he planted potatoes
ready boiled, hoping they might come up hot and ready for
eating. The spare time thus at our disposal, would pro-
bably have been spent in fiſty different ways, by fifty dif.
ferent persons, if they had each been obliged to wait so long.
Some would have fretted and scolded within doors, -others
might have taken a hit at backgammon,--some would have
read a book, or bathed, or sketched, or visited the cottages,
to inquire into the state of the poor, -many gentlemen
would have fished, and some ladies might have beguiled
their weariness, as they have already been known to do, by
unfolding matches on the chimney piece, and reading their
contents; but after duly considering all these plans that
f{ILL AND WALLEY. 193
Suggested themselves, we sallied forth to Jionize the won-
ders of Aberistwyth.
Remote, unfriended, slow, but not melancholy, we reach-
ed a beautiful esplanade, and were in the midst of some
very original remarks upon the loneliness of being solitary
in a crowd, and on the certainty of our remaining as com-
pletely incog, as if we had worn Fortunatus’ invisible ring,
being far removed from the world in general, as well as
from our own world of acquaintances in particular, when
we were suddenly arrested by hearing our names reiterated
behind. If a bailiff had tapped A on the shoulder, he
could not have turned round with greater surprise, which
was changed into pleasure when we recognized a party of
intimate friends, all arrived quite as recently as ourselves,
and equally pleased to see “a kent face” among so many
strangers. The little coterie now became transfixed to the
spot for nearly half-an-hour ; and though nothing in the
intercourse of society is more diſficult than to support with
suitable spirit and vivacity, the animation of an agreeable
and unexpected meeting like this, yet the awkward reaction
which generally takes place on such occasions, did not oc-
cur to interrupt the fluency with which we all exchanged
greetings, compared notes, admired, criticised, complained,
narrated old adventures, anticipated new ones, inquired
for cousins, uncles, and relations, on every side, sympathiz-
ed with all the gouts or rheumatisms enumerated, and also
commented on the accommodations, the prices, the scenery
and the society of Wales. In short, “we met and parted
with such emotions, as only strangers in a foreign land can
ever know !”
Late in the evening, A– and I set forth a second time
to explore in good earnest, and began with inserting our-
selves into every crevice of the very old castle at Aber-
istwyth, which is said to have been built by somebody once.
It served as a dwelling-place formerly, to the great Cad-
17
194 IIILL AND WALLE Y.
wallader, who kept open house there, and the present pro-
prietor does so now in a different sense, as neither doors,
windows, nor roof remain. It stands in a fine command-
ing situation, where an immeasurable stretch of ocean lies
before its walls, bounded by Ireland in the distance ; and a
charming view of the town and neighbouring hills on the
other side, may be enjoyed from the windows. In this
castle, Charles I. allowed a Mr. Bushels once to set up a
mint for coining money to pay his workmen, because he
had so many employed in the lead mines, that it amounted
to a perfect army. This man afterwards testified his gra-
titude by lending, or rather giving the king in his adver-
sity, £40,000. Punsters are requested to beware of per-
petrating any puns here about coining by Bushels, or rais-
ing a Sovereign, as any such attempt at wit would be
considered a public nuisance, and indicted accordingly.
This man’s loyalty was also shewn by enlisting a regiment
at his own expense, the soldiers in which would not be
stinted for leaden bullets, as they might have an abundant
supply from the materials here.
Every drawing-room in the crescent at Aberistwyth
became now lighted up, and the distant sound of music
proceeded from many an open casement, where we saw
gay groups sprinkled about the rooms, with every appear-
ance of festivity and enjoyment. It was an unlucky hour
when shutters were first invented, as we derived much
pleasure during our evening walk from seeing into such a
multitude of cheerful homes, before they were closed for
the night ; but what a ſairy scene of enchantment those
brilliantly illuminated saloons must have appeared to seve-
ral poor people whom we met strolling along the beach
They had, perhaps, scarcely a roof to cover them, while
we saw their eyes casting many a wistful gaze towards the
splendour, partially revealed at every glittering window,
within which they could scarcely suppose any thing but
HILL AND vALLEY. 195
perfect happiness to reign. Those who, during a life-
time, can scarcely obtain the necessaries of existence,
are apt to fancy, that if these were only supplied, there
would be nothing more to endure; and having scarcely
time to cherish any natural sensibility, how little it can be
possible for them to imagine, that the very luxury and
ease which they envy, only leaves more leisure for reflec-
tion upon the mental distresses of earthly existence, when
these come, as they inevitably must, sooner or later, with
all their train of dark and mournful emotions. Nothing
can oblige a rich man to exertion under the pressure of
affliction ; while shut up in solitary musings, his mind cul-
tivated to the highest pitch of feeling, he sometimes con-
templates the darkened horizon of life with awe and ap-
prehension, becoming forgetful of all worldly greatness, to
which he is already as much accustomed as to the air he
unconsciously breathes; but an indigent man finds in the
daily cares of existence a “counter irritation,” which di-
vides his notice between bodily and mental endurance, di-
minishing the sharpness of both, and proving that while
the comparatively insignificant gifts of fortune are so un-
equally distributed, cheerfulness and peace are impartially
dealt to all without exception. The remark of Sir Wil-
liam Curtis might be applied to many enjoyments, as tru-
ly as to the subject of eating, that “after all, the rich-
and the poor are about equally ill off, because the one can
seldom find a dinner, and the other can still seldomer find
an appetite.” How striking and appropriate was the tes-
timony of Lord Bolingbroke, who had mingled more than
any man in such bright scenes of festivity as those we
were now contemplating from the solitary beach at Abe-
ristwyth, and who had enjoyed them with all the refine-
ment and zest of which they are capable ; yet these are
his remarks upon the mistaken estimate which the poorer
classes form of the advantages bestowed by wealth and
196 IIILL AND WALLEY,
luxury : “I have enjoyed all the pleasures of this world,
and appraise them at their true value, which is very low,
whereas those who have not experienced, always overrate
them. They only see the outside, and are dazzled by
their glare; but I have been behind scenes, and observed
all the coarse pullies, and dirty ropes, which exhibit and
move the gaudy machine. I have seen and smelled the
tallow candles which illuminate the whole decoration, to
the astonishment and admiration of an ignorant multi-
tude. When I reflect back on what I have seen, and
heard, and done, I can hardly persuade myself that all
that frivolous hurry and bustle, and pleasure of the world,
had any reality ; but I look upon what has passed as one
of those romantic dreams which opium occasions, and by
no means wish to repeat the nauseous doze for the sake of
the fugitive dream.” Life is indeed “as a dream when
one awaketh ;” and though few agree with the French
divine who maintains that men are answerable for the sins
they commit in their dreams, because it must be a wicked
imagination that ſancies them at all, yet the fugitive vi-
sion of life is deeply important in its smallest details, on
account of its leaving a record of every hour and every
moment behind, which shall be proclaimed hereafter, be-
fore an assembled universe, and give its colouring to eter.
nity.
Night closed in, and we still paced up and down the sea.
shore, as if it had been the quarter-deck of a man-of-war,
while one of our newly discovered friends from the hotel
“ met us by moonlight,” and joined our party, till nothing
was visible but the stars over-head, and the young moon
looking not much larger than an eye-lash. All the mag-
nificent features of nature appeared beside the darkening
shore, exactly as they have been seen by successive gene.
rations of men since the days when Noah first practised
navigation, and Confucius studied astronomy, and the
HILL AND WALLEY. 197
calm clear moon above reflected in the troubled sea be-
neath, might fitly represent the glory and the peace which
reign on high, contrasted with the agitations and tu-
mults of this world, even when brightened by Christian
hope.
As the old song says, “I would rather sit up a the
night than be up in the morning early,” and we could
have continued to promenade with pleasure till next day
at six, when our journey was to re-commence; but hav-
ing in a rash moment pledged ourselves to the chamber-
maid by ordering rooms, we thought it due to her feelings
that they should be occupied, after the trouble she must
have had in preparing them. Therefore, at a very late
hour, we unwillingly took leave of our sociable compa-
nion, and of that beautiful shore, where memory will often
carry us back in agreeable retrospection, when the plea-
santest pages of our past history are recalled to mind.
Next morning, by the peep of day, we were again in
full progress southwards, and on this occasion it must be
acknowledged, that the only omissions were made which
have to be recorded in the whole course of our travels;
but a perfect tour “ ne'er was, nor is, nor e'er shall be.”
Hafod, a place recently purchased by the Duke of New-
castle, and with a splendid reputation for beauty, is situ.
ated some miles from Aberistwyth, and deserves every
respect and attention from travellers, though we had not
put it down on our visiting list. The previous proprietor,
Mr. Johnes, who had unfortunately more taste than money,
ruined himself with the expense of embellishing these
grounds; and after improving them till they became the
delight and admiration of every stranger, was obliged to
leave the Elysium he had made, and become a stranger
there himself. Near that richly adorned residence is also
to be found “The Devil’s Bridge,” a scene of mournful
1.7%
198 HILL AND WALLEYo
desolation, which no tourist should omit to cast his eye
upon.
After we left Aberistwyth, it might have been supposed
that no place but London, which produces every thing in
its highest perfection, could have exhibited so heavy a fog
as this morning commenced with, ending in still heavier
rain ; and the cold was so intense, that winter seemed
really come to spend the summer with us. It was tanta-
lizing to depend entirely on fancy and description for the
scenery we passed through after leaving Aberistwyth, be-
cause the country appeared to have the finest features
imaginable, had it not been for this double veil which con-
cealed them. After laboriously ascending nearly to the
summit of one very lofty hill, I felt like the blind travel-
ler, Holman, when A– described what ought to have been
visible, but could not be descried through the reeking fog.
Innumerable rich and fertile valleys were stretching out
in every direction, like the spokes of a wheel, while a no-
ble barrier of mountains hemmed them all in, though the
whole seemed now melted into one universal mist. The
top of the hill where we stood was lost in fog above, and
the base equally invisible below, so that our road seemed
an island, cut off from the earth entirely, and floating in
an ocean of its own.
We had breakfasted at the little fishing village of Abe-
rayron, where one of the most clean and orderly inns in
the principality hangs out its sign ; and as is always the
case in so praiseworthy an establishment, the bill appear-
ed so very moderate, that we were much inclined to send
for the landlord, as Lord did on a similar occasion,
and to make him increase the amount in proportion to the
comfort enjoyed. On that occasion, the worthy host was
with difficulty induced to raise his demand, and then wrote
down on the bill, “By desire, one shilling.” In these re.
mote districts there are always women to wait at meals;
HILL AND WALLEY. 199
and though the rustling of their stuff petticoats forms an
audible accompaniment to the creaking of their shoes,
yet use is second nature, and I soon began to feel quite a
want without the accustomed noise. It is desirable that
as many occupations as possible should be leſt open by
which women may gain a competence, because both at
shops and inns, as well as in every other department, they
are unſortunately now nearly superseded.
During this day, we passed the College of St. David’s,
at Llanpeter, recently endowed for the education of Welsh
clergy, though students cannot obtain a degree here with
the same advantage as at Oxford or Cambridge. Several
benefices belong to this establishment, and it cost £20,000
to raise the house. Amongst many other liberal subscrip-
tions for it, George IV. sent from his privy purse £1000;
and it was one of the last acts of his government, under
Mr. Canning, to give a second thousand.
The whole expense of studying here averages only £50
per annum to each individual, and the house is large and
handsome, of accommodating aspeet, with so many win-
dows, that if we had not heard the building was opened in
1827, I should have supposed it older than the window-tax,
which spoils all our modern dwellings, by putting their
eyes out whenever economy is an object.
We observed several learned looking professors and stu-
dents strolling about on a large green which surrounds the
college, apparently immersed in solitary meditation, or
carrying a book in their hands, probably Euclid or Aris-
totle, or perhaps an English grammar ; for to many Welsh
clergy English is a foreign language. The members of
this college wear no particular dress, but hide their heads
in a round hat like ordinary mortals, and their shoulders
seem “unconscious of a gown.” This does not look at
all academic, and it undignifies a college extremely to see
its members wearing modern costumes instead of the clas-
200 HILL AND WALLEY,
sic gown, like a Roman toga, cut in as old a fashion as
the books they study, and looking as if it had been a cast-off
dress belonging to. Cicero himself. The scarlet gown at
Glasgow gives that college a decided advantage over
Edinburgh, where the students resemble raw recruits who
have not yet got their uniforms. The English traveller,
who thought they all wore gowns of the royal tartan be:
cause he saw a few young men pass in cloaks of it on a
wet day, would have done a service to the university if he
had established that fashion generally.
Welsh livings are proverbially poor, but seeing is be-
lieving; for no one can suppose to what degree this is the
case without being actually on the spot. Every body has
heard of the incumbent at a living between Ambleside and
Keswick, who received only “ £10 per annum, two new
surplices, and a goose’s grass;” but many zealous and
learned divines in Wales have little more ; and what a
gentleman gives to his butler would be wealth to men of
learning, education, and piety in Wales, whose laborious
lives and active services in a widely extended parish must
seek a better reward hereafter than they can ever look for
in this world. On one occasion we observed a gentle-
man whose dress denoted his clerical profession, hastening
rapidly along the high road, under torrents of rain, with a
lady leaning on his arm. They stopped a public coach
which was passing at the moment, and inquired how much
the driver would charge for conveying them to a town se-
veral miles off; and when he named what appeared a very
moderate sum, the stranger looked disappointed, saying
in a tone of remonstrance, “Why that is the whole fare
from our own door, and we rose early in the morning to
walk all this distance, expecting to diminish our expenses.”
The coachman continued unrelenting, and the dispute end-
ed in the lady proceeding to take an outside seat, while
the gentleman walked on under his umbrella. The differ.
HILL AND WALLEY, 201
ence was scarcely more than a shilling, which any one
would gladly have paid ; but we were obliged, like Mac-
beth, to let “I dare not” wait upon “I would ;” for though
no secret was made of their embarrassment, yet they
were evidently people of superior education and man-
ners, to whom any purse proud offers of assistance would
have been very officious. Unfortunately, on account
of the necessity for speaking the Welsh language, all
churches in this country must go to native preachers;
or it might sometimes happen, as is occasionally the
case in England, that men of independent income accept
small livings, and are thus enabled greatly to benefit the
parish, by a degree of liberality from their own private
fortune, which exhibits the Christian spirit of St. Paul,
when he said, “I seek not yours’ but you.” Men have
been found willing thus “to spend and be spent” in their
Master’s service,—possessing talents and wealth added
to sincere devotion, all employed with unceasing energy
for the flock they were appointed to watch over ; but the
cares inseparable from a limited, uncertain income, must
paralyze the exertions of the most zealous, who are unable
to afford such benevolent relief to the poor, along with
their pious exhortations, as might give the most permanent
efficacy to both.
I remain with respect, esteem, and regard, nothing
sounds so emphatic as writing in triplets, -your friend,
correspondent, and cousin.
&c. &c, &cs
202 HILL AND WALLEY,
CHAPTER XV.
Familiar with a round
Of ladyships a stranger to the poor.
- CRABBE.
MY DEAR Cousin,_A tedious visitor has clipped the
wings of my pen this morning, but though friends and ac-
Quaintances cannot be laid aside in our reticules till wanted,
it is your own fault if ever you are bored too long with a
book or a letter.
We did not observe many schools or charitable institu-
tions in North Wales, but one acquaintance, the Lady
Bountiful of a whole parish, and a truly zealous Chris-
tian, mentioned, that she taught a class of eighty children
herself, in her own neighbourhood ; and that it was encou-
raging to observe the zeal with which her little scholars
walked many miles in all weathers to gain the benefit of
instruction. Her persevering labour must have been rich-
ly rewarded, by seeing such a promise of success in sowing
seed, which would bring forth fruit unto life eternal. No
teacher could have been found throughout that district duly
qualified for the task which she seemed able to discharge,
without neglecting any domestic duties. Her example how-
ever is not for universal imitation, as it forms a better ar-
rangement where ladies merely superintend the labours of
a well-informed teacher chosen from the middle ranks ;
thus, not only providing a deserving young person with a
livelihood, but also maintaining proper order and subordina-
tion among the different ranks in society. The higher
classes may discharge their duties to the lower, yet not
obliterate all social distinctions. St. Paul's injunction
is remarkable, “condescend to men of low estate.” It is
HILL AND WALLEY, 203
incumbent on every Christian to be liberal as God hath
prospered him, and to “consider the poor;” but in doing
So, circumspection must accompany benevolence, or the
indiscriminate distribution of food, clothing, education, and
attendance in sickness, might prove a source of unexpected
mischief. By imagining for a moment such well-intended
plans carried to their utmost extent, we perceive that the
whole domestic work of the poor would be taken out of
their own hands and done by deputy : therefore it becomes
important to inquire where that medium lies, which shall
enable conscientious persons to perform the duties enjoined
by Holy Scripture, towards those who are the legitimate
objects of their assistance, without diminishing any exer-
tions of the indigent when capable of labour, which it
should be the first object of Christian charity to encou-
rage. An eminent divine, being some time since on a
visit to some benevolent ladies in a country parish, they
mentioned having established schools, kitchens, clothing
societies, and dispensaries, in the neighbourhood; but dis-
tress being still evidently on the increase, they were anxi-
ous to ascertain what more he would recommend to be
done ; upon which he advised that none but the blind, the
maimed, and the incurables be thus provided for, that all
those public institutions be abolished, and that subscrip-
tions be asked in every cottage, for some great Christian
object. This plan proved so efficacious, that before long
many were bestowing charity, who had been in the habit
of receiving it. Every disciple of Christ must hold him-
self ready to “give alms of such things as he hath,” for
the poor shall be always with us, and never cease out of
the land ; but while the purse is open, the understanding
needs also to be enlightened, before any individual can as-
certain in what manner his limited powers may be most
efficiently exerted for the general good, without wasting
their efforts on unnecessary objects. Nothing can be
204 HILL AND WALLEY.
done well in this world, without very great pains being ta-
ken to do it right ; aud while there exist multitudes of our
fellow-creatures whose misfortunes oblige us, on Scriptural
principles, and from natural feeling to pity and relieve
them ; no Christian should indolently act on mere impulse,
in a world where every thing tends towards evil, but
study with fervent prayer and anxious attention the diffi-
cult science of really doing good. It may be considered the
deepest question in political economy, though, every one
fancies himself competent to solve it, what promises to be
the best prevention and cure for idleness, poverty, and
ignorance, the three great evils with which active benevo-
lence has to contend. The idea is quite exploded now, that
charity consists in showering half-pence indiscriminately
on every clamorous applicant along the highway; because
what is bestowed in this way, must be either too much or
too little. If the distress be real, more ample relief should
be afforded; if it be an imposition, you are probably send-
ing money to the gin-shop ; but after careful and judicious
inquiry, no one can feel in the perplexity that Sterne did,
when throwing a trifle to the distressed widow, “I grudg-
ed at the time, thinking it too much. I have blushed ever
since thinking it too little.” We should observe that Chris-
tians are desired “to let their light shine before men,” as
to their own personal conduct ; but on the subject of chari-
ty they are peculiarly enjoined “not to do their alms be-
fore men,_not to sound a trumpet,_to do them in secret;”
and while these injunctions were intended to elevate the
motives of those who give, they are at the same time most
beneficial for those also who receive assistance; because
it now seems fully ascertained, that by publicly relieving
the poor, evil is almost invariably caused, and that nearly
all great institutions for their benefit produce mischief, by
taking the motive away from their own exertions. If the
tie of sympathy between the poor be unbroken by the jea.
HILL AND VALLEY. 205
lousies produced when they are rivals for public aid, it is
almost incredible how generously they will assist those who
really are helpless; and that instinct of compassion which
Providence has so mercifully implanted in every breast, be-
comes especially active when softened by experience of
similar distress. There may of course occur a few in-
stances, much to be lamented, of neglected infirmities and
umpitied sufferings among the homes of the indigent, but
these are rare, while many touching traits of almost mag-
nanimous friendship might be described among the very
poorest families. While the affluent are therefore bound
not to withhold of their abundance, where the poor are
throwing in their mite, it must be done with discretion, or
sufferers may lose those disinterested attentions from rela-
tions and neighbours, which are beyond all price. Amidst
the higher ranks we see how generously friends sometimes
assist each other in pecuniary difficulties; but if govern-
ment were to establish a public fund for placing gentlemen’s
sons at Eaton or Harrow gratis; if physicians and nurses
were appointed to attend the sick, without receiving any
fee; and if every old lady who fell into difficulties were
entitled to a pension, there would be an immediate end
of all mutual good offices even among members of the
same family.—Fathers might have no wish to incur the ex-
pense of a classical education for their children,_relations
might feel acquitted from all necessity to visit invalids,-
and sons, who in other circumstances would have been happy
to share their fortunes with a parent, might in this case put
him on the general fund. Thus all those emotions of ten-
derness which arise from dependence on the one hand, and
protection on the other, must be finally extinguished, but
secret benevolence runs no such hazards. Few plans of
Christian liberality seem so perfectly to unite a due regard
to the bodily and spiritual wants of the poor, as that re-
cently suggested by Dr. Chalmers, and adopted in most
18
206 HILL AND VALLEY.
towns, of employing, under sanction of the parish clergy-
man and to act as his assistants, qualified missionaries,
who visit the homes of the poor, and become personally
acquainted with their habits and necessities. This ap-
proaches nearer the apostolical method of affording relief
and consolation in private, than any other, besides supply-
ing a sure channel of information to every one desirous of
making his charities really efficient. The custom of care-
lessly giving money to those who professionally exhibit
their poverty, is worse than useless; but the truly suffer.
ing and deserving poor are numerous, and ought to be dili-
gently 'sought for and succoured, as our zeal in doing so,
is the test by which every one's faith shall be estimated at
the day of judgment ; when those who clothed the naked,
fed the hungry, and visited the sick, shall alone be recog-
nized as having the love of God in them. These duties
may often be privately and unobtrusively discharged by la-
dies in the country, with much advantage and pleasure to
themselves; but in great cities so many impediments oc-
cur, that such an enterprise becomes, in many cases, next
to impossible, which renders it the more desirable that
clergymen and missionaries should be employed as proxies
in privately distributing to the necessitous ; especially con-
sidering that ladies possessing ample means to bestow alms
on the poor, have seldom that command of time, which
might enable them to distribute their gifts with the neces-
sary circumspection. Those who have families to educate,
cannot feel justified in consigning their own children to a
governess, that they may teach those of others; or in leav-
ing parents and husbands neglected, if any other qualified
agent can be employed, for reading that holy word to others,
in which domestic duties are first inculcated,—“To guide
the house and diligently to follow every good work,” are
injunctions preceded by the important remark, “If any
provide not for his own, and specially for those of his own
HILL AND VALLEY. 207
house, he hath denied the faith, and is worse than an in-
fidel.” Though Eli became occupied in the service of the
temple, we see how severely he was punished for the neglect
of his own sons’ education; which proves that the most sa-
cred engagements cannot supersede that duty. It was the
last earthly work of our Saviour to recommend Mary his
mother, to the disciple John. We have a beautiful exam-
ple of domestic love in the Apostle Andrew, Simon Peter’s
brother, as soon as he was himself convinced of Christ's
divine mission, he first findeth his own brother Simon that
he might bring him to Jesus; and though not much is told
of Job’s wife, she must have added little to the comfort of
home, when we read that all his blessings were to be taken
from him, yet she was left behind. Christian love then should
resemble a beam of the sun, warmest and brightest in that
centre from which Providence directs that it shall ema-
nate; but, far from limiting its influence to one sphere,
spreading light and cheerfulness abroad in proportion to
the strength and purity of its source; while Christians who
seek not first the good of those nearest by kindred or neigh-
bourhood to themselves, act with as little conformity to the
known will of our great Creator, as if the sun were to with-
draw from this world, and spend its whole strength in aim-
ing to enlighten some more distant hemisphere.
A traveller abroad used to tell, that he lived several
months in foreign society without finding it necessary to
use more than the single French word, “ vraiment ſ” and
a tourist in North Wales, might have passed through that
whole country with one exclamation, adapted to all he sees,
“Sublime !” In the South however, we sink from the sub-
lime to the beautiful, though without taking that one step
which Burke threatens his readers with, from the sublime
to the ridiculous. After leaving Cader-Idris, the whole
character of the scenery degenerates from bold, undisci-
plined, natural grandeur, to tame cultivation ; where the
208 . HILL AND WALLEY.
hills seem all transformed, on Bailie Jarvie's plan, into
“good arable land,” varied by extensive meadows, wooded
banks, and luxuriant valleys, resembling the richest parts
of England, but no longer the Welsh Highlands, with
“heath-covered hills that pierced the skies,” and moun-
tain torrents precipitated into the dark and narrow gorges
which seemed prepared to swallow them up.
I have an insatiable love of desolate grandeur, and shall
probably settle for life either at Glenoe or Llanberris; but,
in the meantime, we arrived safely at Llandovery, beau-
tifully situated in a vale, where two streams join the Towy.
A large proportion of the villages in South Wales, have
names beginning with Llan, which means Church ; thus
shewing the universal importance attached to religion in
this country, even at the remote period when those places
received their designation. We passed through upwards of a
dozen with the same auspicious commencement; but as they
are all faithfully recorded in Cook’s Topographical Libra-
ry, it affords the best opportunity of studying to distinguish
between Llandewrystradennau, Llansaintffread, Llanrhys-
tid, Llanbadarnvawr, and a multitude of similar designa-
tions, amongst which Llandovery is charmingly situated
at the entrance to the celebrated vale of Towy, and almost
surrounded by a confluence of rivers.
Here we lionized a small scrap of an old fortification
close to the inn, -
A castle and a ruim too !
We’ll hastem there and take a view
It is placed on an eminence commanding a fine prospect
of rich and varied scenery, adding interest to the smiling
landscape, while standing there as a monument of past
generations; indeed it is, as Mrs. Malaprop would say,
“a perfect antic,” being the merest skeleton that can be
imagined, and not very unlike an old Stilton cheese when
HILL AND WALLEY. 209
making its last appearance on table ; but if walls could
speak, as we all know they have ears, what a history these
could tell of daring actions and important events, which
they witnessed formerly, when patriots fought and bled in
those deserted chambers;–" Why dost thou build the hall,
son of the winged days? Thou lookest from thy tower to-
day; yet a few years, and the blast of the desert howls in
thy empty courts.”
From Llandovery we were conveyed next morning, by a
charming drive, to Llandilo, situated so near a very fine
place of Lord Dynevor's, that we hastened there without
loss of time. Indeed, we never lost time; for it may be
conscientiously declared, that from the moment of starting
on our western circuit, until we returned, no one can accuse
us of having, for one single moment, forgotten our duty as
tourists. Whether walking, driving, gazing, sketching, or
journalizing, we were specimens of perpetual motion, so that
a spectator might have been apt to fancy us gifted with the
wooden leg invented by a German doctor, which could never
be made to stop walking, till the unfortunate wearer died of
fatigue. The approach to Dynevor Castle leads through a
magnificent park, commanding the finest wooded scenery
that can be imagined, widely extended valleys stretching
out in every direction, and tastefully decorated by a profu-
sion of ancient trees, which look as if they had been planted
by the Druids. A connoisseur enjoys much the same plea-
sure in admiring the symmetry of a well-proportioned tree,
as of an ancient statue; but Spencer, in his Fairy Queen,
formerly celebrated these stately oaks in such rapturous
stanzas, that no poet since has ventured to take up the
theme, or I should certainly have thought it necessary to
immortalize them in verse. The same poet imagines Mer-
lin's cave to be excavated in this park; but he threatens so
dire a fate to those who enter, that we did not even attempt
to discover it—
18%
210 HILL AND WALLEYo,
And if thou ever happen that same way
To travel, go to see that dreadful place
Amongst the woody hills of Dinevawr;
But dare thou not, I charge, in any case,
To enter into that same baleful bower,
For fear the cruel fiends should thee unawares devour.
An ancient castle, built by the Welsh princes before the
time of William the Conqueror, stands at one end of this
park, overhanging a precipice, and surrounded by trees
coeval with itself, their fine old branches twisting and
writhing into all imaginable shapes, as if they were suffer-
ing agonies. These should undoubtedly have been shewn
to the London tourist, who complained that he never saw
any trees so grand or so picturesque as those in Kensington
Gardens; but, though comparisons are odious, they would
certainly have gained the prize at any competition. It is
a proof that hereditary prudence has subsisted during cen-
turies in a family, when such old ancestral forests maintain
their ground; for a spendthrift proprietor would have wield-
ed the axe, and put them all in his pocket before they attain-
ed so mature a growth, while his successors might reap a
harvest of copse wood every twenty years, instead of wan-
dering beneath the shadow of trees as old as their owners’
genealogy. Gilpin describes the noble oaks in Sussex,
which, after they were cut down, took a score of oxen to
draw, and were two or three years in travelling to Chat-
ham. But the person capable of signing their death-warrant
may well be pitied, whether he felt it as he ought to do, or
remained heartlessly indifferent.
An ancient Prince of Wales was long and cruelly im-
prisoned within the walls of Dynevor Castle by his own
son, a chief with an un-spellable name ; and, indeed, the
name of so odious a tyrant should neither be written nor
remembered. He put out the eyes of a brother, who had
excited jealousy by Superior attainments, and confined him
HILL AND WALLEY, 211
also in a solitary cell within the castle. This unfortunate
youth, knowing every winding and turning in the edifice,
groped his way to the dungeon of his injured father, and,
by an effort of prodigious strength, broke the door open,
unloosed the aged prince's chains, and conducted him to
light and liberty. I felt much inclined, like Lady Betty
in the Inheritance, to beg for a sequel to the story ; but
whether the dutiful son ever by good chance recovered his
sight, or whether poetical justice at last overtook the
usurper, tradition has not been complaisant enough to
remember. *
The only flaw visible in the beautiful landscape at Dy-
nevor, consists of a plain, ugly, oblong-square house, at
present the family residence. The venerable old trees did
their best to hide it from us, evidently ashamed to be seen
in such companionship ; for certainly the finger of taste
has never been there. Children every day cut out
precisely such houses on white paper, perfectly square,
with small square apertures at the upper story for bed-room
windows, a row rather larger below, for the drawing-room
ones, and a wide square door. The only attempt at orna-
ment consisted of four very thin turrets, placed one at
each corner, looking like rushlights surmounted by extin-
guishers; and the whole seemed newly dressed in a coat
of white-wash. Where nature has done so much, art
might shew herself to more advantage. We strolled
round the house and offices during nearly an hour, wish-
ing to discover some one who might conduct us over the
place; but not a living creature became visible, except a
furious little dog, which barked as if we had been robbing
the house; and certainly evil disposed persons might have
done so with impunity, if there had been any thing that
they happened to fancy.
Next morning, having been more successful in catching
a cicerone, he told us that the proprietor here felt so much
212 IIILL AND WALLEY.
satisfaction in the antiquity of his beautiful place, that no
alterations, however trifling, are permitted, and no changes
are considered improvements. When an old fence, or a
mildewed wall, gives way, our informant assured us, it
must always be rebuilt precisely on the original pattern,
and the aged moss or weeds are carefully re-adjusted in
their places; so that if any previous lord of Dynevor re-
turned, he would find these grounds in the same dishabille
in which they were left on his decease. Peculiarities are
always entertaining; and, from the moment we were ini-
tiated into this trait, so like Miss Edgeworth's Goodenough,
it became amusing to observe all the old unreformed
abuses. Fortunately in this country nettles never grow,
as they do in the Pampas, twelve feet high, or they would
have been allowed ample time to do so round the old castle,
where they seem never to be cut, which might probably be
an innovation on ancient prerogatives, as colonies of
snakes and toads must have established a right of prescrip-
tion beneath the long rank grass, in toiling through which
we were drenched with wet, and stung with nettles. Here
I began, for the first time, to believe old Colonel ’s
story, that on first taking possession of his place in the
Highlands, he cut down grass of many years’ growth, and
found a flock of the ancient cattle of Caledonia pasturing
invisibly beneath it. In many estates, where the same
aversion to change does not exist, improvements are so
long planned and discussed without being executed, that it
might be no bad plan, if, every twenty years, the proprie-
tors in a county were all, during one season, to change
estates, and each execute for his neighbour what it could
be proved that the owner had himself projected and talked
of during at least ten years. Plantations would then at
last be thinned, lodges built, garden walls repaired, draw-
ing-rooms furnished, and hills planted, which, under the
HILL AND WALLEY. 213
ancient regime, have had a reform bill often proposed upon
them, without its ever being passed.
The gardens at Dynevor are charmingly embellished
with fine old yews, cut and carved in the fashion of King
William's time, and subdivided with walls, built in open
arches, which produce a very light and cheerful effect.
The green-houses are superintended by a first-rate gar-
dener, who turned out, of course, to be Scotch, as wherever
any one enters a particularly well-managed garden, he
might safely address the superintendent in the northern
salutation, “Hoo's a' wi' ye!” According to nature,
Great Britain should enjoy a very short summer in respect
to flowers; but the American plants brighten our ear-
liest spring, the Russian violets perfume our November,
and roots from China and other nations prolong the
autumn ; so that now, even in the open air, we can almost
contrive to make the two ends meet. It has been calcu.
lated, that during the last century, more than a hundred
new species of plants were every year imported to our
gardens, so that, in the present day, upwards of seventy
thousand are known ; and of roses, even in one garden, at
Loddiges, near Hackney, there are fifteen hundred diffe-
rent kinds; while in Lord Douglas's, at Bothwell, one
hundred and twenty species of heaths may be found.
Throughout the Scriptures, only seventy-one plants happen
to be named ; but how different must the study of botany
be now from the early times of Solomon, “who spake of
trees from the cedar tree, that is in Lebanon, even unto
the hyssop that springeth out of the wall;” and how great
is the pleasure to those in the present day who have mas-
tered so difficult and so beautiful a science. The fashion-
able affectation at present is to profess an extravagant
passion for flowers. No one should be able to exist a day
without heliotropes and geraniums; and it would be more
tolerable to dispense with a dinner than with a bouquet.
214 IIILL AND WALLEY .
In Germany, peasants who can afford a garden, always
appear in church carrying nosegays, to shew that they are
persons of property; but young ladies now, whose whole
estate is in a flower-pot, cannot be seen without as many
camellias and hyacinths daily as would fill a conservatory,
and employ half-a-dozen gardeners. At Dynevor there
ought to be none of the modern parvenu flowers, such as
dahlias, cactusses, chrysanthemums, and calceolarias, all
distinguished foreigners, newly imported, and generally
received with ecstasies of admiration ; but in such an old
Welsh scene, we expect to find only the native families of
lilies and holly-hocks—
The vulgar wallflower, the smart gilly flower,
The polyanthus mean, the tribe of single and of double pinks.
Here roses were in their highest perfection—by no
means a frequent sight now ; for there appears consider-
able reason to apprehend that the respectable old race of
hundred-leaved and cabbage roses, and others with a pedi-
gree as ancient as those that fought for the houses of York
and Lancaster, will soon become extinct, and give way to
the more showy, but far less estimable, monthly and Chinese
tribe.
The rose of Damascus is one of the most beautiful
kinds ; and Sir John Malcolm mentions—if that would be
any inducement to their cultivation—that in the east, he
has seen excellent tarts made of the leaves; though in this
country a cook would give up his place if asked to try the
experiment.
As it is said in heathen mythology, that all roses were
originally white, till Venus accidentally pricked her feet
with thorns, and stained them red, perhaps Flora had the
jaundice when they became yellow ; but roses are very rare
yet of that hue, and all attempts to make them perfectly
black have hitherto been ſailures; though every where our
HILL AND WALLEY. 215
complaisance is put to the test by the exhibition of some
which profess to be a match for ebony. The gardener here
has not yet adopted the new fashion, so prevalent elsewhere,
for training rose bushes into trees. Many varieties are now
engrafted on the top of a tall straight stem, and they conse-
quently branch out in all directions, looking so much like
an umbrella, that any one caught in the rain would be much
tempted to pull it up by the roots. The effect of this arti-
ficial engrafting is neither natural nor graceful, having no
recommendation but novelty; and when I see these imita-
tion trees in preparation, with a string attached to every
branch, and not a twig left to nature, they often remind
me of modern education.
216 HILL AND WALLEYe
CHAPTER XVI.
He saw with his own eyes the moon was round,
Was also certain that the earth was square ;
Because he had journey’d fifty miles, and found
No sign that it was circular any where.
BYRON.
My DEAR Cousin, The old proverb used to hint, that
“familiarity breeds contempt ;” but this saying is quite
reversed in respect to the scenery of Wales, which rises in
my estimation the more we see of it. During a delightful
drive yesterday to Carmarthen, the river Towy accom-
panied us, like a cheerful pleasant friend, prattling and
running almost the whole way alongside of the carriage,
and enlivening each scene as we passed, not in any respect
resembling its formidable aspect some months ago, when
the little current suddenly swelled into importance, roaring
through the wide valley, and sweeping all to destruction,
on which occasion the mail horses were drowned, and the
passengers saved in a boat. Every pleasure in life is des-
tined to have some alloy; so the landlord at Llandilo
had taken care to provide one for me during our drive, as
he tried an experiment of yoking, for the first time in its
life, a fiery, irritable, chesnut horse into our carriage ; and
animals of that colour are alleged always to possess the
worst tempers. Before long I became much more occupied
in watching the meandering of our equipage from side to
side of the road, than the meanderings of the Towy, towards
the brink of which we often approached nearer than seem-
ed quite agreeable, while my exclamations were alternately
expressive of fear or of admiration. It became a most anx-
ious drive, as we were within an inch of an accident all
HILY, AND WALLEY. 217
the way; and having once, on a former journey, been be-
trayed by a treacherous landlady into entering a ruinous
old chaise, which the post-boy afterwards confessed that
he was conveying to the next stage, on the chance that it
might possibly be repaired, we had now an opportunity of
judging whether the greatest misery of human life is, to
travel with the first day of a horse, or the last day of a
carriage. Persons who tolerate mischievous animals in
their possession, should remember the Jewish law, that when
a man kept an animal, habit and repute vicious, if it caused
the death of any person, then “the beast must be put to
death, and his owner was also put to death.” Not that I
wished the innkeeper brought to condign punishment on this
occasion, but he certainly deserved to be put in fear as his
guests were.
Nothing can be more attractive than the beauty of the
cottages in this part of South Wales. Generally rather
removed off the public road, they have an air of elegant
seclusion, being covered with roses and buried in apple
trees. The walls are invariably white-washed by the inha-
bitants themselves, who, in their zeal to perform the opera-
tion thoroughly, often include the roof also, which makes
each house appear like a white tent, and the villages re-
semble scattered encampments, or drifts of snow on the
hill-side. We glanced into several of these little miniature
dwellings, and their cleanliness would have done honour to
a Dutch housewife, for the floors could scarcely be exceed-
ed in neatness except on the deck of a man-of-war. The
ruinous Castle of Carmarthen has been entirely monopoliz-
ed for gardens and orchards, by a gentleman who grows
vegetables in the ancient kitchen, where once they were
cooked, and picks his dessert in the old dining-hall and
buttery, where the grape is now enjoyed in a less jovial
form, than it assumed within those walls in former days.
We could only obtain a “bird’s-eye view from the river”
19
218 HILL AND WAT,LEY,
of this very picturesque ruin, a mere remnant of former
magnificence, though the garden resembles a brilliant rain-
bow of various colours amidst those dingy walls. The cli-
mate here, being fimported from the west, is more equal and
mild than in any place but Devonshire, as a proof of which,
the myrtle, passion-flower, fuschia, and other delicate plants
thrive in the open air. It became necessary to put off an
hour at Carmarthen, while my enemy the chesnut horse re-
paired his strength and spirits to give me another fright; so
we proceeded to inspect the town, though there were scarce-
ly objects enough of curiosity to occupy so much time.
Houses of all ranks are mingled at Carmarthen, with as
little attention to disparity in their importance and quali-
fications, as if they had come in person to vote at an elec-
tion. Wretched looking, thatched, and dilapidated cottages
are falling to decay, close beside others which exhibit a
thriving prosperous exterior, and seem well-to-do-in-the-
world, displaying venetian blinds, slate roofs, brass knock-
ers, five square windows and a door. These “desirable
tenements” were evidently inhabited by people, of whom
Miss Mitford could relate a delightful little gossiping his-
tory, in which the attorney, the surgeon, the old maid and
the widow, would be each our intimate acquaintance; while
we should have been led to sympathize in their broken hearts,
lost keys, harsh overseers, pet lap-dogs, and all the miscel-
laneous subjects of interest found in every village, though
no where better described than by that delightful authoress,
whose works are so perfectly rural, that they seem ſtagrant
with cowslips and violets whenever we open the book.
Rivers always appear muddy in a town, and even the
crystal Towy, which had become quite majestic in extent
at Carmarthen, looked soiled, like a dim looking-glass
breathed over, till it could no longer reflect the bright face
of nature. What an emblem it seemed of the human cha-
racter, so fresh, so natural, and so joyous when unconta-
IIILL AND WALLEY. 219
minated by the world; but too often losing in purity what
is gained in depth, while it slowly advances till mingled
and lost in a boundless infinity, “without a bottom or a
shore.”
A family went abroad lately, because though they had
gone up the leſt bank of the Rhine, they had never come
down the right, and we resolved to do equal justice to the
Towy ; therefore having advanced on one side, we return-
ed by the other, and made our carriage wait while we
scrambled up a very steep ascent leading to a prospect-
house built by Sir William Paxton in memory of Lord
Nelson. This distinguished hero has been rather unlucky
in his monuments, they are all so remarkably ugly. Those
at Dublin, Edinburgh, and Glasgow, are complete fail-
Ull'éS.
But his bright laurels ne'er shall fade with years,
Whose leaves were water'd with a nation’s tears.
From this temple of ſame that whole country may be
overlooked at one single glance, which we had taken an
entire day to drive through. What can be eompared to
the wide and rapid grasp of sight ! We travelled with our
eyes over fifty miles in one fleeting moment A man born
blind would be as unable to imagine the possibility of such
a fact, as we are to comprehend the greatest wonders re-
corded in revelation. Here we gained a distant view of
Middleton Hall, one of the finest mansions in Wales, be-
longing to the Paxton family ; and we also saw Lord Caw-
dor's park, where he was building a new house, the grounds
about which well descrve their name of “ Golden Grove,”
on account of the glowing fertility they display. This
Thane of Cawdor is better off than his predecessor on the
Highland moor ; for the witches themselves would have
stopped dancing to admire the view of his seat, which we
enjoyed from that elegant summer-house. The Welsh
220 EIILL AND WALLEY.
monument to Lord Nelson does not supply pilgrims with
ices and pastry like its colleague in Edinburgh, but is left
open constantly for the benefit of visitors ; so that if any
one be ever at a loss to find a night’s lodging in Wales, he
may know where to go, and place himself on an altitude
whence the phain beneath seems spread out like a map for
inspection ; and here tourists may feel themselves raised
for a time above the anxious cares and the much-ado-about-
nothingitiveness of their busy lives, while if the mind could
be elevated Hike the body, they might
View the distant tops of thoughts,
Which men of common stature never saw.
In this part of Wales five horses are sometimes yoked
into one plough, and seldom fewer than three in a cart,
Hay and pasture seemed abundant, and observing the rich
dairy lands, with cows up to their knees in grass, we were
prepared to find the butter pre-eminent here, which it al-
ways is, though never presented except with a soupçon of
salt. As Welsh loaves, however, are baked without any,
and taste what the Scotch would call very wersh, the ba-
lance is preserved, and their bread and butter when united
are not much more salted than our own. In respect of
not making it sour, Welsh bakers have the advantage of
their northern neighbours, who would require to give the
same reason for preferring their own loaves to others, al-
leged by a Highland proprietor for maintaining that the
grapes in his garden were better than elsewhere, “I must
premise, however, that I like them sour.”
The Welsh mutton can be as tough as any other, and
the best generally walks off to the London market ; but
at some principal inns, where the landlords had farms, and
fed sheep themselves, it was admirable, and of so small a
breed, that the lambs might almost have been roasted
whole like pigs, or served up in a dish, split and brandered,
i.
EIILL AND WALLEY - 22 I
to imitate chickens. It is always enumerated among the
pleasures of the country, when proprietors kill their own
mutton ; but a retired shop-keeper, who bought an estate in
the north some time ago, was heard to declare, that much
as country gentlemen enjoyed it, he tried the experiment
once, and really never had the heart to perform the opera-
tion a second time. t’
We saw in this part of Wales several very primitive
carts, without wheels, their shafts leaning on the horse,
and sloping to the ground behind. The boats here are
also very simply constructed, being made of basket-work,
and covered with waxed canvas, which renders them so light
that a fisherman can carry one many miles on his back,
with as much case and grace as a tortoise carries its
shell. The ancient Britons covered theirs with the hide
of a horse, which thus continued, even after death, to bear
its rider ; but in shape, size, and weight, their coracles
were exactly similar to those now in use. It requires very
skilful navigation to manage them, as the boatman may
often be observed to paddle his oar with one hand, while
he conducts his net with the other, and holds a line in his
teeth. If he over-reaches in the slightest degree, while
eagerly playing a trout on the hook, the fish gets the best
of the joke, as he inevitably plunges into a cold bath ;
therefore the little vessel must be kept as carefully balanced
as a spoon on the edge of a tea-cup. Some years since, a
spirited boatman, on the Wye, astonished the natives at ,
Ross, by undertaking, for a wager, to navigate his coracle
to the farthest extremity of the British Channel, which
was thought nearly as impossible as to go round the world
in it. His voyage lasted a ſortnight, during which he en-
countered difficulties beyond belief as this bet was scarcely
less difficult to gain than that of Bradbury the clown, who
undertook formerly to proceed from one extremity of the
Thames to another in a boat drawn by six geese harnessed,
19*
222 HILL AND WALLEY.
which exploit was successfully achieved at last, as well as
that in a coracle upon the Wye.
While enjoying a most enchanting drive by Brecom and
Hay to Hereford, it seemed rather tormenting to be inform-
ed that there was a still more beautiful road by the Vale of
Usk, which we felt it would be necessary for us to return
and see on some future occasion. Meanwhile the one we
passed through appeared quite charming enough, as the
gladness of nature became really infectious, while we me-
andered along through a maze of finely wooded hills, where
every field and valley smiled in gay luxuriance. The
county of Brecknock, on account of its mountainous roads,
has been very suitably nick-named Break-neck-shire.—
Within the walls of Brecon castle, during the reign of
Richard III. a former bishop of Ely planned, along with
Buckingham, the rebellion in favour of Richmond ; but the
Welsh, not being very partial to the conspirators, deserted
their cause, so that the duke was taken and beheaded,
though they afterwards rallied round the standard of Henry,
and assisted in gaining the victory on Bosworth Field.
In a churchyard near Brecon, stands one of the finest
groups of yew trees in Great Britain, which we repented
frequently afterwards not having alighted to measure,
though it would scarcely have been safe to record their im-
mense circumference, because no untravelled reader would
have believed it possible. I did formerly hazard a descrip-
tion of one gigantic yew which grows in a small village
churchyard near Abergavenny ; but a northern proprietor,
who was listening, assumed so polite a look of incredulity
on the occasion, that I gave him down half a yard on the
spot.
Gilpin mentions a hollow yew tree in Dorsetshire, which
may be entered by a rustic gate, and seventeen persons
once breakfasted in its interior. In Perthshire, too, we
may boast of the one at Fortingal, which measured fiſty.
HILL AND WALLEY. 223
two feet round, and all funerals entering the churchyard
passed through its trunk; therefore backed by such an au-
thority, it may be mentioned that I saw a gentleman mea-
sure one of those that still flourish near Abergavenny, and
he had to stretch his arms to their full extent five times
before he completely circumnavigated the trunk. Even
then he did not quite meet himself again, and therefore, on
the most moderate computation, it must have measured
thirty feet. The top spread out into a perfect forest of
Harge branches, amongst which we counted more than twen-
ty of considerable dimensions. It had altogether a fine
sombre, sepulchral effect, harmonizing beautiſully with the
simple memorials of past generations, many successions of
whom had probably admired this tree when living, and now
slept beneath its shadow. There is an uninteresting same-
ness, however, in all evergreens; and though this aged
yew tree seemed to bow its majestic branches in acknow-
ledgment of our admiration, as we stood gazing with asto-
nishment at its enormous proportions, yet there would be no
pleasure in forests such as those of New South Wales,
where not a leaf withers in autumn, and the joyousness of
spring is never felt. We must have change in all things;
and even sunshine itself loses half its beauty without clouds
fitting by. Mr. Loudon, who is drawing up a description
of British forest trees, lately surprised a Caithness proprie-
tor by gravely writing his request to be favoured with an
exact measurement of the largest cedars and oaks in that
county, where it would require a microscope to discover
any ; but a connoisseur in such subjects should visit the
churchyards in South Wales, where trees appear as if they
must have been old before the days when any other memo-
rial was raised over the dead. It is pleasing when the lan-
guage of nature can thus be used to express the language
of the heart, when the yew, perpetually green, exhibits an
emblem of immortality,+when the willows weep not in
224 HILL AND WAT,LEY.
marble, but in the freshness of life, and when the gayer
flowers which fade and bloom in succession over the grave,
remind us that, while “all nature dies, it lives again,” and
“a following spring” shall yet revive even “the ashes of the
urn.” 2
Hereford, where we arrived to dinner, is a very pleasant
little town, celebrated for being the birth-place of Garrick,
and also distinguished as a particularly healthy place of
residence. A gentleman named Hoskins, in the time of
king James, assembled there ten old men and women to
dance before his majesty, whose united ages made a thou-
sand years. We could not easily collect such a quadrille
anywhere in the present day.
It is a sad deficiency. in most cities, having no public
promenade on which to assemble the inhabitants occasion-
ally ; but in this respect Hereford excels most places, as
there are beautiful public walks, bounded on one side by the
Wye, and on another by a decayed remnant of the old castle.
In these gardens we paraded for two hours, enjoying the
scenery, and admiring the groups of fashionable loungers in
their best dresses, who strolled beneath the long aisles of
noble trees, or who skirted round the bright pool of water
which lies like a diamond upon the green sward, while
the visitors all wore a look of leisurely enjoyment, which
seemed quite foreign. The small cathedral towns in
England are reckoned peculiarly dull, but respectable;
and in none does this appear more to be the case than at
Hereford, where the streets are clean and quiet, the people
all tolerably well dressed, not a beggar visible, not a car.
riage to be seen, the shops excellent, and the hotel where
we stopped one of the best I ever entered. The waiter, on
our arrival, appeared completely at a loss to find any good
sitting room disengaged; but while meandering through the
long passages in search of one to suit, we accidentally ob.
served the large assembly room vacant, and proposed to put
HILL AND WALLEY. 225
up with that as a pis aller. This suggestion was gladly
acceded to, though with evident surprise at our choice ;
but the weather had become so sultry, that we enjoyed our
extensive airy premises exceedingly. If the various vicis-
situdes of this large public room could be known, what balls,
concerts, missionary meetings, public dinners, and political
assemblies, its walls have witnessed, but probably never so
small and select a party as now. Being thus lodged en
prince, we might have invited all our friends and acquaint-
ances in Hereford to a public dinner without increasing the
party by one single individual; but the room was fitted to
contain a crowd as numerous as one shown in the old town
of Edinburgh lately, where a charitable gentleman found
that four families lived, each in a different corner, and one
of the parties let lodgings
The first cathedral at Hereford was founded in the se.
venth century, by the Saxon king Offa, who wished thus to
expiate the murder of Ethelbert, perpetrated on the exact
pattern of Macbeth and king Duncan. Offa's queen in-
veigled her victim to the house where she instigated the
crime, and assisted in its consummation. It is the privilege
of those who die young to get credit for all the good ac-
tions they might possibly have done, and all the good
qualities they could possibly have possessed, and accord-
ingly Ethelbert was afterwards worshipped by the Roman
Catholics as a saint, while the Saxon monarch showed
every mark of remorse; but we do not hear that the lady
repented, as she probably remained a sad instance of what
is so often remarked, that if a woman’s heart be once per.
verted, it becomes even more hopelessly hardened than that
of a man. In this case, what is most contrary to nature
seems least likely to return to the course of nature again,
for the best things when corrupted become the worst.
This cathedral was renewed about the time of William the
Conqueror, and very frequently since, but it is now shap.
226 HILL AND WALLEY.
ed, as most old churches are, like a cross; and viewing it
as a cathedral, Hereford is not considered particularly il-
lustrious for size or architectural beauty. As Gulliver
was a dwarf at Brobdignag, and a giant among Lilliputians,
so Hereford cathedral is diminutive compared to York,
Canterbury, and Winchester, but so far exceeds all ordi-
nary places of worship, that our church extension plans
will never produce another of equal extent. The little
formal disfiguring edifices, now showing their faces all over
the country, present a sad contrast to such buildings as
this, or even to the fine old parish churches of Bernard
Gilpin’s time, in which a beautiful mixture of variety and
uniformity gives so much grace and elegance to their out-
line. It might be desirable if the rich would still exhibit
their zeal for the honour of religion, as was done formerly,
by dressing up the country with ornamental churches like
those erected by the primitve Christians in our own coun-
try, and of which king David at Jerusalem set an example,
when he wished to build an house for the ark of God, say-
ing, “Shall I dwell in a house of cedar, and the ark of the
Lord in tents.” This example may have inspired his first
namesake in Scotland to raise such a crowd of beautiful
abbeys and churches in the north. After our Scottish
monarch had completed those of which we have such noble
remains at Melrose, Jedburgh, Kelso, &c., he was raised
to the dignity of being called St. David; and one of his
successors remarked with some bitterness, that he had in-
deed been “a sore saint to the crown.” The destructive-
ness of reformers signalized itself on those edifices where a
more moderate degree of zeal might have established the
worship of God in its primitive purity, instead of introduc-
ing the silence and desolation which reign within those
roofless walls. All may read a lesson of caution and mo-
deration while they view such memorials of ill-directed vio-
lence, in zealots acting like the Irishman, who took down
HILL AND WALLEY, 227
his house because the chimney smoked. External marks of
respect for public worship may have proceeded often from
superstition, or other inferior motives; but it has been tru.
ly remarked, that there is no smoke without fire, and there-
fore every indication of reverence for religion is to be
viewed with pleasure, as a testimony of allegiance to the
great cause of Christianity. Whatever were the bigotry
and enthusiasm of ages less enlightened than the present,
they have left most glorious monuments behind; and
though much ignorance and even hypocrisy occasionally
intruded within those sacred walls, yet many are the acts
of humble devotion, and fervent adoration, which they
must frequently have witnessed among the successive gene-
rations formerly assembled there. It is seldom that those
unaccustomed to the chanting of prayers like anything so
artificial, because the expression of feeling must be quite
simple, or it never appears genuine, and the ordinary ar-
rangement of the church service seems much more applic-
able to the varied impressions on a mind engaged in pub-
lic worship, when solemn heartfelt prayers are followed
by the music of thanksgiving and praise, while the volun-
tary comes in also to represent meditation, and to give
time for it. Still there is something truly impressive in
the cathedral service, which elevates the mind, and brings
forth the inmost depths of feeling and of thought, when the
sublime harmony of the anthem seems to “speak our Ma-
ker as we can,” expressing in the grandest tones our limit-
ed powers can yet reach, the praise and adoration which
shall rise hereafter to an eternal anthem in a better world.
We had a very interesting sermon from the officiating
clergyman, a person apparently of most unaffected piety,
who treated us to the best of all eloquence, sincerity, with-
out either wandering into wild and baseless declamation, or
confining his address to mere cold and unimpressive rea-
soning; but in order to please a congregation in more north-
228 HILL AND WALLEY,
ern latitudes, he would have required to unite three of his
longest sermons into one, as any of his auditors might have
lost a very considerable proportion of the time it occupied,
during an ordinary fit of coughing. One old man who sat
near us caused excessive annoyance during the psalms, by
singing completely out of tune, and exhibiting extraordi-
nary agility of voice, pitching his notes higher, as well as
louder, than the organ, or any one of the choir; while the
more observingly people looked round at him, the better he
became satisfied with his own performance, evidently con-
sidering himself a great acquisition,-and no doubt he
was a very powerful one. A great spirit of emulation is
kept up between the organists and singers of Hereford,
Worcester, and Gloucester cathedrals, as an annual meet-
ing takes place between all those three choirs, when they
give a gränd concert, for the benefit of the widows and or-
phans of clergymen, which always produced a consider-
able fund till last year, when the stewards had to pay up a
considerable deficiency.
We did not forget at this cathedral, to look for Miss
Edgeworth’s rat-hole, and to enquire for the verger, now a
very civil, intelligent man, who conducted us, after service,
over the entire edifice—the long aisles and lofty arches of
which we peopled in imagination, with monks and bishops
of former days, whose voices, once so familiar within those
walls, are to be heard no more, but whose tombs in the
chancel are marked with inscriptions which ask our sym-
pathy for the dead. A few short lines embody the history
of a life-time; while with “uplifted palms, and silent mar-
ble lips,” they claim our remembrance, and teach us a les-
son more deeply impressive than any living tongue can ut-
ter. It was truly solemn to stand in this mournful “hall
of death,” where the mortal remains of so many lie in tem-
porary separation from the soul, awaiting that day when
the body and spirit shall meet again, like long absent friends,
HILL AND WALLEY . 229
to remember, as for ever past, the sorrows and temptations
they formerly endured. David speaks of passing through
“the valley of the shadow of death ;” and to those who en-
ter there, guided by the great Shepherd of souls, death is but
a shadow, dark and solemn though it be. The righteous
sleep till the resurrection; but that only seems deservingly
characterized by the name of death, which is eternal, when
hope as well as life is extinct, and the sinner rests not in
Him who “turneth the shadow of death into the morning.”
Life would indeed seem one universal tragedy, were it not
for such hopes full of immortality as are expressed on many
a tomb-stone around us here, which enables a Christian to
feel like Solomon, that “the day of his death is better than
the day of his birth.” Between the one period and the
other, how short an interval it seemed, when we read on
each stone, the hour recorded when life began, the day when
it closed, and the few intermediate actions which had been
thought worthy of remembrance; while in most of those we
examined, centuries had elapsed, and generations had lived
and died, since the course of those who lay there had been
run. Like the leaves of a tree, they blossomed and fell;
but any existence short of eternal, would at the last appear
thus to terminate speedily. A French author imagines men
living successively in all the planets, and redoubling
the duration of their time in each, till they entered Jupiter
and Saturn, where he supposes them to survive during
three thousand years; and he yet describes the inhabitants
complaining, while each pursued his favourite phantom,
how rapid was the flight of time.
“Life how short, etermity how long.”
Bishop Cantilupe, whose shrine we saw here, dated 1282,
was supposed to work miracles after his death ; and on the
richly carved sides of his tomb, are still visible the marks of
several hooks on which pilgrims were expected to hang their
20
230 HILL AND WALLEY,
offerings; but though more than one hundred miracles were
ascribed to him, the greatest of all certainly was, that peo-
ple were found so credulous as to flock from every part of
Europe to partake in this benefit. One of the oldest mo-
numents in Hereford Cathedral is raised to Bishop Lindsay,
who is represented lying on a sarcophagus, with the city
of Jerusalem carved in marble on his breast. The sculp-
tor's was a bold attempt to diminish the proportions so mar-
vellously, and reminded me of Mr. Canning’s celebrated
snuff-box, with the town of Constantinople cut out in dia-
monds on the lid ; or of Alexander the Great, who intend-
ed Mount Athos to be carved into a representation of him.
self, while a city was to be held in his hand. All round
Bishop Lindsay’s tomb, were beautiful medallions chiselled
in marble, representing Scriptural subjects; such as the
house founded on a rock—the head of St. John—the Lamb
slain, and many more which seemed very interesting,
though difficult to decypher. They might have served the
same purpose as those which Dr. Doddridge describes in
his own life, when he mentions that his first taste for study-
ing sacred history arose from trying to understand the Dutch
tiles on a chimney piece, where his mother used to explain
such devices as these, with which it was profusely adorned.
One very ancient image of a bishop, carved in stone, lay
on his side, in an easy attitude, as if he had that moment
turned himself round, though he has reclined in the same posi-
tion during eight hundred years. Several tombs were mark-
ed out by flat figures stamped on brass, looking as if a man
in armour had been put into a frame and hot pressed. The
dates upon these brasses were generally about the year 1100,
but one as late as the fifteenth century. Several were un-
fortunately sold by mistake, amongst some old rubbish, many
years ago, and may now perhaps be appearing in the ca-
pacity of knockers on the doors of their descendants.
HILL AND WALLEY. 231
The very generations of the dead -
Are swept away, and tomb inherits tomb.
Where are the epitaphs our fathers read 3
One female figure in the chancel, of very ancient date,
wore a perfect Queen Mary’s cap, and her dress gathered
into folds all round, so completely in the present fash-
ion, that she might have entered a drawing room with-
out exciting particular notice. The most remarkable
monument here, is to Bishop Field, Queen Elizabeth’s
chaplain. His effigy is carved in free stone, and painted
to imitate life, while he stands in a most animated attitude,
as if preaching. The sermon lasts longer than any Cove-
nanter's, however, since he has been demonstrating there
with an uplifted arm, since 1595. Dr. Barrow termed all
poetry “ingenious nonsense,” and the epitaph beneath
this figure deserved to be so characterized, being a quaint
and witty specimen of playing upon words.
The summe that light three churches gave,
Is sett. The Field is buried in a grave,
This summe shall rise, this Field renew his flowers,
Where sweetnesse breathes for ages, not for howers.
&
The modern monuments at Hereford are very paltry
in comparison to those of former days, and were scarcely
better than what may be seen in the shop of a marble-cut.
ter at any time; “a little cupola more neat than solemn,”
or small miniature willows weeping over urns no larger
than tea-cups, waiting to commemorate the virtues of any
one for whom they may be purchased. Every thing is
grudged now, but what goes to personal expense; even the
good old fashion of wearing mourning rings seems almost
discontinued ; and it is a much cheaper plan, instead of
raising monuments for the dead at a vast price, to write a
memoir and to be paid for the copy-right; therefore, those
who might formerly have reared a splendid tomb over de-
232 HILL AND WALLEY.
parted worth, now prefer paper to marble; and whether it
be a wonderful child, a celebrated preacher, or a respecta-
ble old lady deceased, their biography inevitably appears
after death, as the report of a gun follows the flash. All
have their day, and all sink into oblivion; for truly has
Burke said, “Shadows we are, and shadows we pursue,”
while no shadow is so fleeting as posthumous fame.
The altar window at Hereford Cathedral looks as if
painted with a rainbow, the colours are so bright, and yet
so softly blended. It represents the breaking of bread, a
subject in which the grouping and expression are so suc-
cessful, that the effect is most impressive. Soon after we
had ceased to contemplate and admire it, an actual dis-
tribution of loaves to the poor took place, which occurs
every week, in commemoration of a deceased person who
left this benefaction as his monument. Probably the pe.
rishable nature of these simple memorials will not prevent
his being more gratefully remembered by many, than if
perpetuated in more durable materials by Chantrey. It
was pleasing during prayers to observe the great number
of old people, so ancient in appearance that they might
almost be supposed co-eval with the edifice, who daily
frequented the morning service ; while those who so fully
appreciate the privilege of attending to receive the conso-
lations of religion amidst the infirmities of advancing
years, must rejoice that our cathedrals are not closed like
our churches during the week, but open almost constantly
for prayer, as on the Continent. I counted seven indi.
gent old men seated in a row one morning, who looked so
deeply impressed and so devout, that it was quite an edi-
fying example. Perhaps, formerly, they may have offi-
ciated among the boys in white surplices, who chant the
responses, and thus acquired this habit of regular attend.
ance. Some of the congregation, we observed, however,
who were as regularly present, and seemed paying as lit.
HILL AND VALLEY, 233
tle attention to the service as the stone and brass bishops
by whom they were surrounded. And certainly many
persons have almost a popish feeling about reading morn-
ing prayers, which seems done like telling over beads, as
if all the religious duties of home, even on Sunday, were
thus fully performed, without further reference to the con-
tinual spirit of devotion in which we are enjoined to live.
A very well-intentioned Christian, some time since, made
it a rule to pray daily during twenty minutes, and regu-
larly hung up a watch before his eyes that he might never
exceed that time; after which, the religious business of
the day was done. How long it takes us to learn the true
meaning of that text, “Pray without ceasing !” The
verger at Hereford Cathedral exhibited a curious map of
the world upon vellum, measuring five feet in breadth and
six feet high. Jerusalem appears in the centre, while Lon-
don is thrust into an obscure corner ; but the date was
1190, at which period our metropolis might have been put
into the pocket of the present London; so we were less
surprised that it holds so subordinate a place in the eye of
an ancient geographer. Here also is shown a handsome
copy of Wickliff’s Bible; and how many owe the pos-
session of theirs to the right value he placed on the privi-
lege of studying this sacred volume for himself!
The most valuable books in this cathedral library are
all chained into their shelves, though none seemed very
portable, being generally large illuminated manuscripts,
dressed in that antique binding which always indicates
heavy reading, not easily to be carried either in the head
or the pocket. At a certain well known library, which
abounds in expensive books, a rule, promulgated some
years ago, gave great offence by stating, “that as several
precious volumes had recently disappeared, ladies were re-
quested not to bring muffs P’ The precautions at Here-
ford are still stronger, and probably quite as superfluous.
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234 HILL AND WALLEY.
Perhaps the more violent works of controversy have to
be chained like mastiffs, or a new battle of the books
might ensue. We were shown a singular brass enamel
pix, recently dug out of a grave, in which a skull was al-
so discovered with red hair still in curl. Within the
same coffin was a popish bull of Clement VI., with an
impression of his seal, dated 1343. It is customary in
Russia to place a paper of this kind beside the body of
every deceased person, signed by the nearest bishop, on
which are inscribed testimonials to the departed man’s
character. A previous trial always takes place, with
witnesses called to prove whether he merited a passport to
future felicity or not. Our last visit we paid to the con-
ſessional in Hereford Cathedral, now fortunately fallen
into disuse ; but it reminded us of superstitions exploded,
and of days gone by, when repentance seems not to have
been considered the root of reformation ; but a penitent
came here to pour out his dark catalogue of crime, in or-
der that his conscience might be cleared for the perpetra-
tion of more. Money was then considered influential in
procuring a passport to happiness, like the fabled golden
bough with which Eneas entered paradise; but more en-
hightened faith now prevails within those venerable walls :
and after standing throughout all the ages when popish
superstition domineered, they are now restored to that
purer mode of worship for which they were originally
built. Corruptions in faith, form, and doctrine, arose to
such magnitude once, that the branch was apt to be mista-
ken for the stem ; but the Roman Church, which claims
infallibility for itself, cannot now be considered even a mem-
ber of that which claims infallibility for the Bible alone, and
which was “rooted and built up in Christ " shortly after
He ascended on high. Christians of our own Scriptural
creed were the first who raised those splendid cathedrals
in England, which have continued from the earliest ages
IIILL AND WALLEY. 235
to embellish our land; yet the credit of having done so is
too often ascribed to the mistaken zeal of a later period,
when papal errors usurped our pulpits for a time. These
are now purified, and restored, however, once more to
their ancient orthodox doctrines, such as we find them
stated in the oldest Christian writers, even by those an-
cient fathers who had personal intercourse with the apos-
tles themselves.
236 HILL AND WALLEYe
CHAPTER XVII.
“For the less cause there is for all this hurry,
The greater is the pleasure in arriving
At the great end of travel, which is driving.”—BYRON.
My DEAR Cousin, A friend of mine maintains that he
perfectly remembers, the day after he was born, making a
sign to the nurse that she should let down a blind, because
the light was too strong for his eyes. Such memories are
uncommon, and in case mine should prove treacherous, it
is lucky that our correspondence supplies an inducement
to jot down all we see, think, say, or do, before it escapes
into oblivion. The golden vale of Hereford, distinguished
for its prodigious show of butter-cups, and other field flow-
ers, during the season, is so celebrated for beauty and fer-
tility, that I expected to be disappointed on first beholding
it, because imagination so commonly exceeds reality; but
for once this was not the case, as description had scarcely
done justice to its richness of colouring, which looked, be-
neath a glaring sunshine, perfectly sumptuous. The pretty
little town of Ross—not, as an accomplished young lady
with rather vague notions of geography supposed, the capi-
tal of Ross-shire, but situated on the Wye, is entered by so
perpendicular a street, that one or two wagoners are said
to have been annually killed there for some years past,
while leading their loaded carts down the hill. A travel-
ler once remarked, that the mothers of large families un-
doubtedly send troops of children out on the road, when
carriages fly past, on purpose to have some chance of their
numbers being diminished, and the swarms of little crea-
tures that clustered round our wheels occasionally, seemed
HILL AND VALLEY. - 23 ºf
as if they really meant to imitate the disciples of Jugger-
naut.
The Man of Ross is intimately known to every reader
of poetry, and his memory reverenced by all who can ap-
preciate self-denying benevolence, active charity, and an
unceasing endeavour to do good, and to spread an atmo-
sphere of happiness and prosperity around wherever his in-
fluence could extend. If all men devoted their means as
unreservedly and judiciously to the glory of God as that
admirable philanthropist, and lived, like him, with a single
eye to the good of others, what a Paradise this world
might be, and what a Paradise each individual might car-
ry within his own breast. Half the miseries of life pro-
ceed from “man’s inhumanity to man,” but the sunshine
of inward peace would in such a case diffuse its cheerful-
ness externally, while increased and enlivened by the parti.
cipation of others. Pope celebrates “The Man of Ross”
in lines worth all the monuments in Hereford Cathedral;
and though no overgrown hospital emblazons his name, be-
cause he preferred usefulness to celebrity, yet hearing a
description of all this excellent man did, a stranger might
be apt to imagine that he enjoyed an almost boundless in-
come, and learns with astonishment that all he achieved was
on an income of only £500 a-year. “The liberal soul shall
be made fat, and he that watereth shall be watered also him-
self.” How many persons are apt to beguile their own idle-
ness, and excuse their own illiberality, by complacently ima-
gining what they would do if endowed with the large for-
tune of another, thus revelling in generous deeds at the ex-
pense of their neighbours; but when the ability arises, the in-
clination seems to decline, or such actions, so often planned,
would not continue always impossible. Instead of wishing
for the leisure, the talents, or the wealth of another, we
here study with advantage how much may be accomplished
by the single-handed exertions of one individual, who
238 EIILL AND WALLEY.
had but a light purse to assist a willing mind. Of such a
man it was formerly said in his epitaph, “He exported his
fortune before him into heaven by his charities;–he is
gone thither to enjoy it.” During a life extended to nine-
ty years, Mr. Kyrle made it his business to act as the guar-
dian of all around him. He apprenticed orphans, visited the
sick, employed the idle, fed the poor, erected an alms-house,
repaired the town at his own expense, enlarged the church,
planted the neighbouring woods, and built the market-place.
Alluding to all these acts of beneficence, Pope winds up his
panegyric, which heroes and philosophers might envy, by
exclaiming, in reference to the moral fame of this remark-
able philanthropist,-
“Blush grandeur, blush proud courts withdraw your blaze.
Ye little stars hide your diminish’d rays.”
If a rich man conscientiously considered himself steward
for the glory of God and the good of man, it is astonishing
to reflect how little actual power would remain in his own
hands, because, when he studies with an enlightened un-
derstanding the conflicting claims of charity, public use-
fulness, relatives, tenantry, and children, so distinct a path
of duty will appear, that no choice is left but implicitly to
advance there; and though it was not the will of our Ma-
ker that we should be formed like mere automatons to obey
His laws mechanically, yet the very choice being left,
speaks to our sensibilities, as well as our fears, by adding a
Zest to the pleasure of benevolence, and a deep responsi-
bility to the indulgence of selfishness, while we learn that
our endeavour to benefit others shall hereafter be made the
measure by which our faith shall be estimated. How many
controversies arise with respect to the comparative import-
ance of faith or good works in a Christian character, when
each is so indispensable, that a bird might as well attempt
to fly with one wing, as the mind to become elevated above
HILL AND WALLEY. 239
earthly objects, unless endowed with the power of both act-
ing and feeling aright; but he who lives selfishly, dies in a
similar spirit, caring little for the real good of others, while
devoted to his own ambitious projects and hopes.
To build a college, or to found a race,
An hospital, a church; and leave behind
Some dome surmounted by his meagre face.
Volumes of rapture have already been printed describ-
ing the beauties of the Wye, which have been thought, in
some respects, to bear comparison with the Rhine; and
certainly this river merits all that can be said in its favour,
as we performed a voyage of forty miles along the stream,
and forty pages could scarcely do justice to our admira-
tion. Such ruins ! such rocks such banks such trees |
It seemed, while we sat still in the boat, as if some skilful
scene-shifter were perpetually drawing his invisible wires,
and producing a fresh effect; while all in succession were, as
Moore says of some beautiful heroine, “for ever unchang-
ingly bright.” &
In one place, a precipitous wall of rock rises abruptly
on each side of the water ; in another, hill above hill, and
tree above tree; while every sweep of the river presented
a relay of magnificent eminences, which met in the dis-
tance, and seemed to close up entirely, till we advanced,
and found the Wye winding its graceful way round the
base. Thus it flows on in a succession of semi-circles, oc-
casionally almost forming the figure of 8. This river, like
other travellers, must have sometimes encountered great
difficulty in finding a bed for itself, as we were at a loss to
guess, in contemplating the gigantic cliffs with which it is
hemmed in on each side, whether the rocks originally made
way for water, or whether the stream had, in the course of
ages, worn down this path for itself.
One would not wish to be censorious; but certainly its
2:40 HILL AND WALLEY,
best friends must allow that the Wye becomes, as it ad-
vances, rather muddy; for when he had proceeded some
distance, the water looked as thick as gruel, giving out none
of those broken transparent reflections which add so much
interest to river scenery. Narcissus might have been alive
yet, if there had been no stream to admire his own image
in, except the Wye. It was formerly considered the boun-
dary between England and Wales, and still seems to advo-
cate the division of these countries, as this river has adopt-
ed a bad habit of washing away its bridges, not many of
which are at present remaining. An old gentleman of
Abergavenny, fully impressed with the necessity for a bar-
rier between the two countries, one day indignantly observ-
ed that Monmouthshire formerly belonged to Wales, but
England robbed them at the rate of a county every cen-
tury. After leaving Ross, Wilton castle is the first pro-
minent object that summons attention, without detaining it
long; for, as Gilpin says, “the scene wants accompaniments
to give it grandeur.” We next observed a substantial man-
sion belonging to a thriving merchant, who cultivates his
amateur farm here, and had metamorphosed it into a scene
of magical beauty; “Ready money is Aladdin’s lamp.”
Then followed a succession of most captivating cottages,
peeping out from such romantic situations, even Mr. Ro-
bins the auctioneer could scarcely have exaggerated in de-
scribing their charms. The bright blue roofs looked as if
a morsel of sky had dropped down to cover them; the
walls were dazzlingly white, except where varied by a
tapestry of roses; the boughs of every tree were dancing
in the breeze, the shadow chasing each other across the
green banks; flowers diversified the sloping gardens; while
a lively concert of birds was accompanied by the murmur
of the waters and the light dip of the oars, enlivening the
music of nature. I should like to see the person, or rather,
I should never wish to meet with him, who could fail to
HILL AND WALLEY. - 241
sympathise with the apparent cheerfulness of all we saw.
Happiness is certainly infectious, for those who cultivate a
habit of observing it in others, seem almost to acquire an
additional sense, by means of which they appropriate a
share of what is scattered and distributed around, entering
in imagination the homes and the hearts of others, to par-
take of their enjoyments.
We landed, with some difficulty, at one place on the
Wye, and rushed up a steep hill to see Goodrich Court, a
most eccentric house, built in imitation of the antique by
Sir Samuel Merrick, who wrote a very clever and well-
known work on ancient armour, and he has exhibited his
reigning passion strongly on this occasion in a most amus-
ing manner. A gallery, like the great armoury at Dresden,
has been erected within the house, measuring about eighty
feet long, with more than fifty full-length figures in it, carv-
ed and painted to imitate life. The whole party is ranged
along the wall, clothed in complete armour, and placed in
warlike attitudes, so that, if Don Quixote had seen them,
he would have made a most thorough demolition among
those valiant heroes. In one room, a complete tournament
was represented, with heralds, spectators, and umpires,
standing round, and two knights, mounted on wooden
horses, not hobby horses, nor were they at all like Madame
Tassaud's wax-work exhibition. Their animated attitudes,
contrasted with the immoveable dignity of the president,
seated beneath a splendid canopy, called to mind a singular
ceremony of the Spanish court, where the king, after death,
is for some days clothed in royal robes, while the courtiers
attend on him daily, to ask his commands. Each figure in
this perpetual tableau at Goodrich Court, is labelled with
his name and title, a plan which would add prodigiously
to the interest of real life, if every individual carried his own
designation conspicuously placed, like the address on a let-
ter. At present, the most celebrated men of their day are
21
242 HILL AND WALLEY,
unconsciously passed by, without a chance of being re-
cognised ; but here not an individual remained incog, ;
for whether it were 1st Richard, Sir Walter Raleigh, Sir
Hubert de Grey, or the Black Prince, all were labelled like
Port, Sherry, Claret, and Madeira. There are catacombs
in Sicily, which must exhibit an appearance somewhat si-
milar to the gallery at Goodrich Court, as the bodies never
decay, and are placed in niches round the vault, dressed
in their ordinary costumes. These were described to me
by a gentleman who was formerly there—not buried, but
alive—and he said, that monks, nuns, and soldiers, who had
been dead for ages, looked almost ready to speak, their atti-
tudes were so animated. It is a strange and mysterious feel-
ing to think how every thing remains of man when his invi-
sible spirit alone departs. We are ready to ask, “What is
gone?” Every feature of his countenance appears the
same; the very clothes that he wore, the most fragile trifle
he possessed, continues unaltered. These are not taken
from him, but an unseen stroke steals him off from all that
was his own. The very trees he has planted, the very let-
ters he has written, the most insignificant ornaments on his
table, are unchanged by a lapse of time during which his
own name becomes obliterated from the earth. A pecu-
liarly striking illustration of this may be seen in the place
of Sans Souci, where Frederick the Great’s favourite room
is preserved precisely as he left it, with his uniform,
clothes, books, pens, and paper, all unmoved ; while the
clock, which, by a strange coincidence, stopped at the mo-
ment of his death, still points the handle to twenty minutes
past two.
Though the family at Goodrich Court are Protestants,
an ancient Popish chapel has recently been added in ex-
quisite taste, with a screen of beautifully carved oak, and
we were told that a kneeling nun is to be placed there,
with a wooden monk to correspond. Each room is fitted
HILL AND WALLEY. 243
up according to the taste of different periods and nations.
Thus, one is of Henry VII.'s time, another cotemporary
with Queen Elizabeth, a third, perhaps, suited to the palace
of Zengis Khan, and a fourth, where the ghost of Tamer-
lane himself might feel perfectly at home. One very
handsome apartment is occupied by an Indian Rajah and
his Queen, in splendid costume, with some of their subjects
prostrate before them. Beyond this we visited a different
room filled with South Americans ; and thus every grada-
tion of warriors is exhibited, with suitable weapons, from
the bow and arrow and tomahawk, to the shirt of steel
and suit of mail. We saw no accommodation prepared
for living persons ; but probably there must be some, or it
would appear rather awful to sit in an evening with “our
lanterns dimly burning,” and fifty armed knights, frowning
on every side, sword in hand ; or to be placed as bodkin
between the Rajah and his wife, with a circle of Hindoos
performing their perpetual salam.
The magician who turned all his guests into stone, would
have felt quite in his element here ; but the whole specta-
cle, embellished with waving banners and coloured glass win-
dows, looked most romantic and extraordinary ; while any
one who wishes to practise the art of living like the monks
of La Trappe, might pass a few months in the society of
solitude here, with great advantage. Goodrich Court is
magnificently situated on a high bank, overlooking a long
reach of the river Wye, which meanders through so rich
and fertile a country, that it would form a princely estate,
if any one could take possession of all that is visible from
the windows. While returning to the boat, I anticipated
an amusing discussion of all we had seen, and expected to
enjoy a laugh over the silent party we so recently left ;
but our descent to the river proved no laughing matter.
There had been incessant rain during the previous night ;
the bank we were to descend was not yet planted with
244 HILL AND WAT,LEY e
grass, and it proved moreover exceedingly steep. If we
had stood on a mountain of butter it could scarcely have
been more slippery ! a moment’s pause inade me sink into
the mud, a hasty step caused me to slide several feet, the
inglorious resource of sitting down was out of the question
in such a wilderness of clay ; and I cannot yet conceive
how it was contrived that, without following the example
of Jack and Gill, we did at last reach the bottom, though
in such a trim, that I might have walked the rest of our
way through the Wye without suffering much additionak
damage.
The boat now glided towards Goodrieh Castle, near
which the river makes such a masterly sweep, that we al-
most circumnavigated the hill on which the ruin stands, be.
fore landing to survey it. The elevated site of this an-
cient fortification, would afford an advantageous position,
to a garrison for observing any assailants; and it must
have been almost impregnable, to judge from the mag-
nificent remains. The gates and portcullisses are so mas-
sy, that it excites surprise how Oliver Cromwell ever con-
trived to break through them. We traced his progress
from the trench where Colonel Birch entered ; and Å
grudged every step he advanced, till the brave cavatiers
at last surrendered, in order to save the few lives left
amongst them. What an interest and reality it gives to
history, thus visiting the actual theatre of events, and
standing within those walls which have rung with accents
of threatening and command from voices now silent in the
dust 3–4 how are the mighty fallen, and the weapons of
war perished P’ It seemed long since those days, while
we beheld the mouldering remains of former strength and
beauty ; for even amidst the changes of a very few seasons,
aged men may adopt the pathetic language of Young, and
exclaim “Where is the world in which I was born eighty
years ago P’ yet in considering British history, it is cers
HILL AND WALLEY, 245
tainly curious to reflect, that, if Methuselah had been a
contemporary of William the Conqueror, he might have
existed through every subsequent scene, and remained
alive till our own day, without exceeding the age to which
he actually survived. -
The towering battlements of Goodrich Castle continued
visible long after we re-embarked, and as the Tourist's
Guide Book recommends, we gazed in silent admi-
ration, till the progress of events brought new scenes
into view, and our attention was attracted by the venerable
forest of Dean, about ten miles in breadth, and so cele-
brated in old times for supplying timber to our navy, that
when the Spanish Armada set sail to conquer Great Bri-
tain, the commanders received special directions not to
leave a single tree standing in the forest of Dean. No-
thing could look grander than the whole sombre mass;
though trees are too often like people, who can all pass
very well in a crowd, while few have character enough to
appear with advantage as individuals; and we could spare
no time to take more than a cursory glance of the multi-
tude in passing. The tall spire of Rurer-dean Church rose
above all, pointing its taper summit towards the skies,
while the wind sighing through the uppermost boughs, and
the river prattling by their side, might have been com-
pared to wisdom reproving folly. Not far from this point
stands the monument of an unfortunate young man,
drowned, while bathing at the desire of his parents, who
awaited his return almost within reach of the spot, sitting
in their carriage and intending to proceed on a tour of
pleasure, which they were then engaged in making along
the Wye. “How thin is the partition between this world
and another l’ One instant, and the vigour of youth was
changed to the coldness of death ;-at one moment the
tenderest ties of maternal affection were a source of hope
and joy—the next hour those very feelings brought a pang
21%
246 HILL AND WALLEY,
of agony and despair such as no heart can conceive. I
fancied the whole scene visibly acted before us; and
could see the disconsolate parents and their lifeless child
grouped near that white stone, which marked where the
catastrophe occurred.—“How lov’d, how valu'd once,
avails him not ;” yet they had raised this simple monument
to warn others against the treacherous nature of those
beautiful banks, composed of long weeds and very soft
clay. They have also placed in the church of Coldwell,
not far distant, the Humane Society’s apparatus for reco-
vering drowned persons, in order if possible to spare others
such a sorrow as their own. It has been well remarked by
an excellent writer, and proved true, we may hope, in
this instance, that all Christians are like passengers on
ship-board, where every now and then one drops out, who
seems lost, but in truth he has only gone a shorter way
to the same port, where all shall be at last assembled to-
gether, while nothing is lost but the comfort of their
society on the voyage. Great indeed is that privation in
the meantime, and deeply to be deplored ; but those are
the happiest in this world, who, though not free from sor-
row, can yet recognize a friend in Him who appoints it,
and who would rather reduce their desires to what is be-
stowed, than even receive their utmost wishes :-
Alas ! for love if thou wert all,
And nought beyond, oh earth !
How truly Newton observes, that it is the same Chris-
tian spirit in kind, though not in degree, which enables
Christians to bear greater or lesser afflictions; for we can
endure nothing patiently in our own strength, whether it
be the buzzing of a fly or the loss of a friend. On im-
portant occasions we refer at once to devotional feeling,
and seek support from the whole armour of faith ; whereas
in the trifling irritations of daily life, Christians too readi-
HILL AND WALLEYs 247
ly forget that the same is equally necessary and equally
available to aid us ; for all sorrows of every kind and de-
gree are intended by infinite wisdom, to prepare those who
suffer for “that land where sorrow shall be no more.”
Those who are resolved to enjoy the beauties, of the
Wye, have really no sinecure Again we were expected
to land, in order to scale the steep ascent towards Wat’s
Yat, a hill said to be 1300 feet above the bed of the Wye,
and the prospect from which is so superb, that I could
have stood throughout a long summer day to admire the
landscape. This place was formerly to have been pre-
sented by government to the Duke of Wellington, but his
Grace preferred Strathfieldsaye ; though if this had been
shown him, as it appeared to-day, dressed up in a golden
stream of sunshine, the Wye and its banks might have
defied all competition.
By walking one mile across this neck of land, we saved
several miles of water, while our boat was left to follow
the stream in all its capricious windings. The rowers
looked so fatigued when we rejoined them, having pulled
twenty miles under a sultry sun, that, though “used to it,”
A gave them a trifle to purchase some refreshments;
and we were pleased soon after to find, that instead of
buying spirits, they procured a quantity of bread and
cheese to bestow on their families at home. It has been
frequently remarked at Oxford, that those young men who
attain pre-eminent skill in rowing are seldom long lived,
the exercise is so singularly exhausting, and it is peculiar-
ly so here.
These boatmen on the Wye are in general exceedingly
poor, the vessels not being their own property. We hired
our's from the Ross innkeeper, who employs his own
rowers, and therefore, from the two guineas a-day which
he charged us, probably the merest fraction might be
awarded to them, though their labour seemed prodigious.
248 HILL AND WALLEY,
In returning against the stream, which is very powerful,
their fatigue becomes re-doubled, as the boatmen are
obliged to land and tow the vessel with ropes most of the
way back, by their own unassisted efforts. Considering
how great this fatigue must be, and how remarkably civil
and intelligent we found these men, A presented
each with a bonus of half-a-crown, during the second day
of our voyage, which called forth the most rapturous ex-
pressions of gratitude; and I really believe that if Dio-
genes, in his search for an honest man, had come here, we
could have shown him two at least. -
Before leaving Ross, A had ordered a sandwich
to be put on board, for which so unusual a charge was
made, that the landlord of his own accord politely apologis-
ed, saying he really had so few visitors, it was absolutely
necessary to make the most of those who came ! We felt
something like George I. when told that, though eggs were
not scarce, kings are. Travellers seem always like vessels
stranded on a strange shore, the legal prey to bands of pil-
lagers, and surrounded on every side by a lawless troop of
waiters, hostlers, chambermaids, landlords, guides, and
housekeepers, to whom rebuke or remonstrance are a mere
waste of words; but this “Man of Ross” appeared so well.
bred and polite, that really his bow was worth the money.
After passing Goodrich Castle, the river falls a few feet,
when the tranquil Wye suddenly gets into a perfect brawl
of turbulence and noise. Like Laura Montreville shooting
the falls of Niagara, we managed to get safely down, and in
truth, without much difficulty or danger, as this descent was
only perceptible on account of our increased velocity.
These little cascades rather puzzle the salmon in coming up
the stream; and reminded me of a famous salmon-leap in
the Highlands on the falls of Kilmorack, belonging to Lord
Lovat. There, a large kettle is fixed at the only place
where the unfortunate fish can hope to rise, and after a
HRLL AND WALLEYe 249
desperate spring they fall into the pan, and thus uncon-
sciously commit suicide; as a fire can be lighted under-
neath, and the miserable captives are boiled on the spot. It
would be an improvement to add, as at some salmon-pools
in Germany, a dinner-bell, which rings whenever a fish
enters the net. Salmon seems the only fish that it is
impossible to tame; and in those extraordinary ponds at
Logan on the coast of Galloway, excavated in the solid
rock, and filled by every tide, cod, haddocks, flounders,
gurnets, and every other species of sea-fish, hasten forward
as eagerly as chickens in a poultry-yard the instant their
keeper appears on the bank, and actually crowd toward the
shore, eating out of his hand, which I have repeatedly seen
them do, while the salmon alone remains shy and distant,
inaccessible to all attention, and indifferent even to the
call of hunger, so it seldom survives long. In advancing
up the Wye, its rocks become more majestic, and are all
dignified with names. We were introduced to Counsellor
Bearcroft and the Three Sisters, very tall of their age ;
the Coldwell rocks, exceedingly magnificent, and King
Arthur's chair, not however high enough for a footstool to
Arthur's seat near Edinburgh. At Winchester, Arthur's
table is also shown, cut from one of the largest oaks in
England, so that we have a complete set of household fur-
niture for his majesty of fabulous and chivalrous memory.
Near Monmouth I caught a glimpse of Troy House, belong-
ing to the Duke of Beaufort, a very common-place building,
with no view of the river; therefore it is impossible not to
regret that this was capriciously spared by the hand of
time, when so many of his Grace's romantic old castles lie
in ruins. Here Henry V. commonly called Harry of Mon-
mouth, was nursed, and his cradle still remains extant;
while, in a beautiful village church-yard overhanging the
river, is the tomb of his nurse Lady Salisbury, with her
full-length statue carved in stone. At this corner of the
250 HILL AND VALLEY.
world, travellers inevitably fall into discussing Shakespeare,
Henry V., Falstaff, Geoffrey of Monmouth, John of Gaunt,
and all the grandees of former ages, who inscribed their
names on the history of this neighbourhood. In the mean-
time we dined at the Beaufort Arms, a sign which in every
town or village where it appeared, was a certain promise
of good accommodation. -
The Duke of Beaufort ought in this neighbourhood to
take for his second title the Marquis of Carrabas, or M.
Nongtonpaw, as every acre or plantation we saw belonged
to his Grace. All his inns are remarkable for being well
kept ; and the Beaufort Arms reach to Ross, Monmouth,
Chepstow, Ragland, and many other first-rate hotels, where
we were glad to “rest and be thankful” for a time. Next
morning we embarked again on the Wye, and found it one
continued scene of enchantment for twenty miles succes-
sively. -
In every exhibition of pictures, there are always at least
six of the landscapes painted to represent cattle standing in
water ; and here were abundant studies for an artist.
Cuyp and Wouvermans, or in modern times Thomson and
Turner, might all exercise their pencils, by sketching the
lowing herds, pasturing on many a rich meadow, which
sloped towards the stream, while a few stragglers stood up
to their knees in water, evidently complaining to each
other, as we did ourselves, of the intolerable heat.
Who has not read, heard, and dreamed of Tintern Abbey,
examined prints and copied sketches, talked and listened
about its beauties, till they seem to have been haunting the
venerable ruin all their lives; I scarcely felt as if a spot
could be unknown to memory there, even when thus ap.
proaching it for the first time —
Hail to thy pile more honour’d in thy fall,
Than modern mansions in their pillar'd state,
Filí.L AND WALLEY. 251
The form outside is so magnificently simple, that its full
extent is scarcely at once appreciated; but those walls
“where princely abbots dwelt of yore,” were considered a
true emblem of that Christian character to be recommend.
ed and practised there, the exterior aspect so plain, and all
the richest ornaments concealed within, while it exhibits an
air of meditative seclusiveness. Some small wretched cot-
tages have stuck themselves close to the walls, like barna-
cles on the side of a stately vessel, which do all in their
power to disfigure it ; but on entering the western gate, a
coup d'aºil is presented, inconceivably fine. A forest of
venerable pillars, looking almost like the long avenue at
Wynnstay, is surmounted by four rows of noble arches,
appearing gracefully to intersect each other, ending at a
window of very splendid proportions, said to be eighty feet
high, and facing, as the principal window of all old churches
is made to do, towards the east, in remembrance of Jerusa-
lem, while the whole building is shaped like a cross. De-
scriptions of Tintern Abbey should be written on ivy leaves,
and with a poet’s pen, for no other could do justice to the
air of solemn grandeur and religious melancholy reigning
within its desolated cloisters, and inspiring that mysterious
sentiment of awe with which we gaze on an inanimate
body from which the soul has departed. The form still
appeared in its beauty, while the life and animation which
had reigned within were now extinct for ever. How grand
the anthem of many hundred voices must formerly have
sounded, awakening the distant echoes as it arose, and dy-
ing away beneath those vaulted arches, while every mould-
ering cloister glittered with the paraphernalia of torches,
processions, burning incense, and all the splendid ceremo-
nial of high mass. Henry VIII. with that mistaken reli-
gious zeal, which would rather kill than cure, destroyed,
instead of reforming, this noble edifice, and thus it has
shared the fate so unnecessarily inflicted on all northern
252 }HILL AND WALLEY,
abbeys and cathedrals by the followers of John Knox, who
did not pause to distinguish between the casket and the
jewel, but because one had become changed, they doomed
both alike to destruction. Tintern Abbey was nearly co-
eval with the Norman Conquest, having been built a hundred
years afterwards by Walter de Clare, who had only the
fortune of a younger son. He dedicated it to St. Mary,
and appointed that, like all other monkish habitations, it
should exercise hospitality towards strangers, who were re-
ceived here, and entertained, as if it had been a hotel; but
such hospitality disappears as civilization increases, and we
might have travelled far in the present day without finding
so convenient an institution. One establishment of this
kind still exists near Winchester, where any traveller has a
right to claim bread and beer gratis, which are given
“without grudging,” in memory of the founder, named De
Blois. The floor in this abbey does not run wild with
vegetation, as in other ruins, but is tidily covered with a
carpet of turf, as level as if it had been done over with a
smoothing iron, but the walls exhibit abundance of beautiful
lichens and plants bursting out at every crevice. Nature
and art appear to have a severe conflict for supremacy
here, as a multitude of statues, leaning in tottering attitudes
against the pillars, and prostrate on the floor, all maimed
and mutilated, seem enlisted on the side of art, while nature
has mounted her colours to the highest summit of every
pillar, and waves her long pennons of ivy over the windows
and doors.
How greatly travellers in America must miss all such
emotions of pleasurable melancholy as those with which
we contemplate these fossil remains of ancient times, Na-
ture is seen in its utmost magnitude and grandeur across
the Atlantic ; while it is impossible not to anticipate that
the new world may yet in due rotation rise to pre-eminent
greatness, and become the chief theatre of future history;
EIILL AND WALLEY. 253
but the one country only excites that interest with which
we look at a thriving child, expected hereafter to distin-
guish himself, while in the other we see a venerable old
age, crowned with honour and virtue, though at last appa-
rently tending to decay. . Many nations in turn have ripen-
ed for their fall beneath a sunshine of prosperity, while the
blast might have raged in vain, but for that internal cor-
ruption which alone brought them to the dust. When
failing to seek nourishment and support from that “tree
which is set for the healing of the nations,” the strongholds of
a people are removed, and even this great kingdom, so long
distinguished by the peaceful union of pure faith and good
government, which rendered it invulnerable to foreign ene-
mies, yet requires the peculiar guardianship of Providence
to prevent its being vitally injured by dangerous fermenta-
tions and internal anarchy. -
Before leaving Tintern Abbey, our solitude was invaded
by a cargo of passengers, landed at Chepstow from on
board the Bristol steam-boat, who rushed in with sketch-
books, eye-glasses, parasols, best bonnets, M*Intosh cloaks,
baskets of provisions, and every sort of modern luxury con-
sidered essential to the full enjoyment of beautiful scenery
or ruined abbeys ; and before we could hurry away, the
ivy-mantled walls were crowned with a wreath of beaux
and young ladies in full flirtation, while the long aisles rung
with laughter and merriment, causing a ludicrous mixture
of tragedy and comedy in our own feelings of sympathy with
past and present times. Many persons maintain that the
pleasure derived from architecture is greater than what either
music or painting can afford. In such a place as Tintern this
is easily imagined ; but it can only be enjoyed on the spot,
and I have given over attempting the picturesque in manu-
script ever since hearing of a certain gentleman, celebrat-
ed for the graphic powers of his pen, who engaged an emi-
nent artist to paint pictures from his written descriptions,
22
254 EIILL AND WALLEY.
while he travelled abroad, but on reaching home, the re.
sult turned out so completely at variance with his inten.
tions, that they were very nearly committed to the flames,
and such a fate might be deservedly inflicted on any pages
rashly attempting to give an adequate idea of Tintern.
From thence, till we reached Chepstow, each bank of the
Wye alternately grew more precipitous, and the tides here
are considered remarkable for ebbing and flowing, more
than in any other part of the world, rising sometimes above
fifty feet. A long range of detached rocks, called after the
twelve apostles, looked exceedingly majestic ; and as a
thirteenth stands beside them, it is named St. Peter's thumb.
Beyond this rises the gigantic promontory of Windcliff, the
lover’s leap, a formidable precipice, ready for the first des-
perate case which occurs, though we heard no tradition of
its having yet been used; and after this, we passed a suc-
cession of rocks, which are in a perfect masquerade, hav.
ing formed themselves into natural representations of ruin-
ed castles, turrets, battlements, and pyramids, all festoon-
ed with ivy, and varied with vegetable and mineral tints
of every colour. Chepstow Castle looks like a part of these
cliffs, being perfectly blended with the precipice which it
surmounts, so that no spectator can discern at what place
the masonry commences. It would be as impossible a task
to draw the line of distinction, as the poets who could not
discriminate “where ends the virtue and begins the vice.”
The keep-tower is high and detached, looking like an ex-
tended arm held up in a threatening attitude, while we crept
along beneath it ; but the rest of the castle is a mere shell,
within which a gentleman has fitted up his residence, and
converted the court into a pleasant garden. Oliver Crom-
well paid Chepstow the compliment to attack it in person.
Having failed, he left an army to besiege the castle, which
was reduced to great extremity, but the brave garrison re-
fused to surrender, intending at the worst to escape by a
HILL AND VALLEY. 255
boat which they had on the Wye. A soldier of the parlia-
mentary troops, however, swam with a knife in his mouth
across the river at night, and cut the cable, after which
the cavaliers capitulated. In the south-east tower, one of
Cromwell’s great auxiliaries spent, after the restoration,
nearly twenty years of his life in hopeless imprisonment,
though treated with some degree of lenity, in being allow-
ed the society of his wife, though I fear your friend D
will say, from his own experience, that it aggravated the
punishment. This Henry Marten was a declared infidel,
though his name sounds familiar to modern ears as that of
our devoted missionary to India. In his day of prosperity
he testified contempt in every possible way for monar-
chy; he clothed a buffoon in the royal robes of Edward
the Confessor, always hitherto worn at coronations, and
marched him about the streets with mock ceremony. Such
were the terms of vulgar familiarity on which he lived with
Cromwell, that when these two regicides signed the death
warrant of Charles I. they jocularly squirted the ink out
of their pens into each other's faces. As Solomon says,
“he that is glad at calamities shall not go unpunished.”
Such a friendship could not last long ; and after those trea-
sonable signatures were recorded, Cromwell, whose taste
for levelling only continued while there were persons more
exalted than himself, tired of old associates who wished to
remain his equals, and took an early opportunity to quar-
rel with Henry Marten, who then learned the same lesson
which Bonaparte afterwards taught to Bourienne, that
democratic theory and practice are very different things,
for no hereditary pride is comparable to that which arises
from recent elevation.
We returned from Chepstow, and mounted to the sum-
mit of “stupendous Wyndcliff,” which rises a thousand
feet high, exhibiting one of the most varied and extensive
panoramas that can be fancied, reaching to the Bristol
256 HILL AND WALLEY,
Channel, which is, however, scarcely an ornament to the
scene, being little better than a sea of floating mud, and
no more to be compared to clear mountain streams than a
Bristol stone to a diamond. Here we traced the Wye
meandering, in the form of a horse-shoe, round a country
diversified like patch-work, and the river enlivens these
noble wood, hills, and rocks, by its cheering presence, like a
pleasant lively visitor rushing into a stiff circle of formal
people, and making them all smile.
Travellers feel extremely ill used now, in not being ad-
mitted to lionize the beautiful grounds of Piercefield, for-
merly opened with the utmost liberality, but now entirely shut
up from public view, having been recently sold to a new pur-
chaser, who has not revealed his name, being desirous to
evade the odium of causing such an exclusion. This anony-
mous proprietor has thus entrenched himself behind his park
walls, wishing, very naturally, to prevent the right of pre-
scription from being established over his private walks, as
the facility with which some former residents admitted every
party of strollers who arrived in the neigbourhood very
nearly lost them their legal right to exclude any one, be-
cause the public, after being long indulged, becomes like an
old privileged servant, who ends by assuming the master.
Forty years is the period during which, if passengers have
always had access, the gates cannot again be closed, nor
the pathway obstructed, against unwelcome intruders, who
used to make picnic parties here, leaving behind, as is
usually done on these occasions, in the summer houses and
walks, a debris of empty bottles, remnants of oranges,
skins of gooseberries, and gaunt skeletons of turkeys and
chickens, which haunted the walks for many days after-
wards.
It is a curious circumstance, that this fine estate seldom
remains many years in the possession of any one proprie-
tor; for, either by death or bankruptcy, they are all in
HILL AND WALLEY. 257
turn dislodged. Every one will remember the accomplish-
ed and lamented Miss Smith’s beautiful letter of mournful
resignation, when her father’s insolvency obliged him to
forsake “beetling Piercefield’s shady ground;” and Bloom-
field celebrates the amiable and benevolent Mr. Morris,
whose charity and hospitality here seemed almost unbound-
ed, till sudden reverses caused him to dispose of the pro-
perty,+
And the lord of yom beautiful seat
Pass'd over the bridge of the Wye
To return to his Piercefield no more,
22*
258 HILL AND WALLEYs
CHAPTER XVIII.
“A book’s a book, although there's nothing in't.”
- ENGLISH BARDS.
My DEAR Cousin,-After so considerable a pause in our
correspondence, let me hope you have neither been quoting
nor applying Lord Byron's lines—
The friend who does not let us know
That he's alive, is dead, or should be so.
Last Tuesday our journey onward to Ragland was per-
formed through a beautiful country, on a lovely evening,
and not a single “but” need be added to record any draw-
back that accompanied the pleasure. When we arrived
at the Beaufort Arms, intending to dine, the hour being
half-past eight in the evening, the landlady, in commi-
Seration of our late repast, presented so rapid and inexhaus-
tible a succession of mutton chops and pancakes, that even
the parasite in Gil Blas could hardly have asked for more;
and it is entertaining to observe the real hospitality which
prevails at some inns in Wales, compared with others,
where the guests would be reduced, like the abstemious
horse, to a straw a-day, if we allowed the experiment to be
tried.
Ragland Castle is the most graceful and picturesque of
all possible ruins, quite a gem in its way, and having fortu-
nately fallen into the Duke of Beaufort’s custody, is care-
fully preserved and liberally shewn. Our first visit there
was in the evening, when we found a numerous party of
young people playing at Les Graces, and dancing to the
sound of a Welsh harp, so we postponed all our fine feelings
EIILL AND WALLEY. 259
for the present, and staid to enjoy a sight of this gay but-
terfly's ball in so venerable an assembly room. A gorgeous
setting sun shewed off the whole scene to great advan-
tage, as it streamed in through every window and crevice,
painting the whole outline of Ragland Castle upon the turf,
in bold contrasts of light and shadow.
This beautiful ruin was a favourite residence, in his ad-
versity, of Charles the First, and his constant promenade
is said to have been on a high green terrace within the
moat, where we stood next morning for some time, admir-
ing those magnificent features of nature which had been
objects of contemplation to the afflicted monarch, and try-
ing to imagine the thoughts which might then have passed
through his mind, while I conjured up to memory his well-
known countenance and majestic step, as he slowly paced
along this noble terrace, perhaps already anticipating that
tragical period when
a monarch from his throme
Sprung to his cross, and found his glory there.
Nothing can be more light and elegant than the architec-
ture of Ragland Castle, which might really have felt flatter-
ed by the praise we bestowed when entering the beautiful
gateway, which is flanked by two handsome towers, having
six sides each, highly ornamented at the summit, and beau-
tifully proportioned. The stone mullions of the windows
are nearly entire, though unfortunately the “mournful ivy,”
and other ruin-loving plants, are allowed to grow so luxu-
riantly, that it seems a conspiracy to obscure their beauty.
The pruning-knife and the gardener’s scissors are much
wanted to keep these modern upstarts in due subordination.
Some parts of this ruin display abundance of sombre mag-
nificence; but the general character is much more riante
and cheerful than most of its ancient predecessors in Wales.
A gallery of large and beautifully formed windows runs
260 IHILL AND WALLEY,
nearly round the inner court, which renders it extremely
gay, without having at all impaired the external strength
of the building. Seeing the architectural ornaments like
lace, reminded us of the story related, when Sir Walter
Scott took Miss Joanna Baillie for the first time to Melrose
Abbey. A large party of eager listeners swarmed round
to gather all that dropt from two such eminent poets, expect-
ing diamonds and pearls, of course, at every word; but un-
fortunately for their anticipations, Miss Baillie is perfectly
unaffected, and much addicted to needle-work ; so her first
exclamation was, on beholding the splendid south-east
window, “That would be a beautiful pattern for a flounce.”
At Ragland one window is shown from which a treache-
rous girl waved her handkerchief as a signal for the Par-
liamentary troops to advance ; and we saw the breach at
which the army of Roundheads finally broke in when this
castle was taken and destroyed. Dungeons are to be seen
here, where the sun never shone, and in which many a
brave cavalier probably lingered out his days as a captive
knight. I never visited more hopeless looking cells,<
dark, deep, and silent, with no apparent facility for ever
getting out again, as the entrance was by a large cavity,
shaped like a mouth wide open ; but after descending into
the vortex, it seems to have been a bourne from whence
no prisoner was ever intended to return. As a monument
of history, these caverns were interesting antiques ; but
Howard or Mrs. Fry would have been shocked at such a
specimen of ancient prison discipline, An oven is shewn
here, which was formerly considered large enough to bake
an ox, though it is more the fashion now to roast him
whole. When the Marquis of Worcester came of age,
some years ago, an entertainment took place on a splendid
scale in the ancient banquetting hall, roofed in for the oc-
casion ; but the symmetry of its proportions, and the an-
tiquity of its appearance, have been considerably impaired
HILL AND WALLEY, 261
by this temporary canopy of wood, scantily decorated with
fragments of armour and family escutcheons.
Every traveller is to be envied who has yet to see Rag-
land Castle for the first time, as a moment of unspeakable
delight awaits him. No place can present a more inte-
resting combination of architectural beauty, picturesque
scenery and historical association. A painter might cover
the walls of his studio with sketches of Ragland, and not
exhaust the subject ; but my pen becomes dry in describ-
ing friezes, architraves, bases, and pinnacles ; therefore,
not a twentieth part of the ruin has been mentioned, nor a
tenth of our admiration expressed. The extent is not re-
markable, because many ruins in Wales are twice the
size of Ragland ; but its remains have a je ne scai quoi of
graceful elegance in their appearance, which, if any one
wishes fully to appreciate, let him order his travelling cha-
riot next summer, and verify all that has been said, begin-
ning with the excellent mutton chops at the Beaufort Arms,
and ending on the keep-tower of Ragland Castle, where, if
the view does not compensate for all previous trouble, I
shall be happy to pay his expenses.
It has no faults, or I no faults could spy;
It is all beauty, or all blindness I.
The cicerone who first conducted us round, looked al-
most as ancient and quite as picturesque as the castle it-
self. She was evidently the remains of a beauty, arrived
at her dernière jeunesse, equipped in a comical kind of slip-
shod magnificence, with a profusion of tattered finery
heaped upon her, and displaying the most antiquated airs
and graces imaginable. It was quite a disappointment
next day when her common-place husband officiated, while
we only caught a distant glimpse of our friend, who
ought to be clothed in festoons of ivy, to appear in perfect
keeping with those weather-beaten towers.
262 BIILL AND WALLEY.
After our return to the inn at Ragland, we received a
visit from Sir Walter Scott's second son, who was partly
educated in Wales, and inherits all his father’s taste for
scenery. He spoke so handsomely of Caerphilly Castle,
in Glamorganshire, that we resolved, on his recommenda-
tion, to alter our course in that direction, and accordingly
proceeded to the beautiful village of Abergavenny, whence
we meant to thread the celebrated Vale of Usk, mentioned
by the earliest Roman authors. - .
A violent attack of rain, however, drove us back to
Abergavenny, and any attempts to explore the whole of
this classical valley were like those of Mrs. Mailsetter
when she tried to read the Antiquary’s letters ; for we
first looked down the vale at one end, as far as the eye
could reach, on another occasion from the middle of it,
and now we looked up the valley ; but to sweep entirely
through was an achievement which A– and I constantly
planned, but never accomplished. The “swatches '' we
did see, proved how desirable all the rest would have been,
as it evidently exhibits one of the most varied scenes in
the principality, twenty miles of which we reluctantly left
unexplored. Both sides of the river are flanked by a
range of hills, each eminence rising from a separate base,
and forming a detached pinnacle of varied shape and alti-
tude. Some are wooded to their summits, and others va.
riegated with rich corn fields. Behind is a savage back-
ground of cold, sombre, rugged mountains, under the sha-
dow of which King Arthur was crowned during the year
517, when four British sovereigns were present, each car-
rying a golden sword, while an equal number of queens ap-
peared, bearing, as emblematic of their character, four
white doves.
The evening cleared up after rain, looking like Wilson's
last picture in the exhibition, only that the brightness and
warmth of colouring excelled what any painter might ven.
HILL AND WALLEY, 263
ture to represent on canvas ; for nature excels the beau
ideal of romance, both in the scenery and in the circum-
stances of life. We now walked out to enjoy such air as
an epicure might have delighted to taste, being fresh from
the mountains and hot from the sun. Here we strolled on
to visit a curious rail-road, down the steep descent of a
mountain, where coal-waggons are precipitated six hundred
feet from the summit in the course of one minute, the dis-
tance being divided into three stages, and the weight of
those coming down full of coals is sufficient to draw up
their empty predecessors. How many persons seem to
think, that like these buckets, the downfall of others shall
raise themselves | If the cars had been rather cleaner, I
should have been greatly tempted to try this rail-road as a
substitute for the Montagnes Russes. .
We now walked some distance along the banks of the
Brecon canal, which is so well contrived, by taking advan-
tage of a great height above the sea, that it follows the in-
tricacies of this vale for thirty miles without a lock. In
returning, we accidentally strayed into the old church at
Abergavenny, where I was agreeably surprised to discover
several handsome marble monuments, which might have done
honour to a cathedral. They commemorate ancestors of
our own, the ancient barons of Abergavenny, who bore the
not very aristocratic name of Broase, and whose effigies
were all laid out full length, under canopies, handsomely
embellished with coats-of-arms. Each marble image re-
clined with his feet resting on the representation of some
animal, couching in an attitude of submission, which re-
minded us of the little negro children who are used in the
West Indies as footstools, being taught to remain as immove-
able as these marble images, and severely kicked if ever
they stir. From the church we advanced to Abergavenny
Castle, built by William the Conqueror, and formerly the
scene of a treacherous massacre, when the Earl of Here-
264 HILL AND WALLEY,
ford gave an entertainment to the Welsh nobility, and end-
ed the feast by a fray, cruelly murdering his unarmed guests.
This little fortress, like most Welsh places, seems more in-
teresting on account of past than present times. It once
enjoyed the same privilege as Berkeley Castle, that of con-
veying a peerage to the possessor, though a strict entail
now prevents any transfer such as that which first convey-
ed it to the present lord, not descended from the original
stock, but who gained his title in right of those ruined
walls. They should scarcely in such circumstances be left
to decay; but a modern tower has been erected beside
them for the steward to inhabit, in which we observed an
elegant drawing-room, enlivened by prodigious windows,
containing thirty large panes of glass in each. A bad pun-
ster would say, that the architect took panes to be expen-
sive; but nothing could be more contemptible. Looking
from these windows, we see a hill, called “The Holy Moun-
tain,” displaying a large chasm in its side, rifted asunder,
according to tradition, by the convulsion of nature which
took place on our Saviour's crucifixion.
It would be useless repetition to remark, that our progress
next day led through a beautiful" country, because travel.
lers could not possibly discover any drive in South Wales
otherwise than charming; and as life has been compared
to a journey, no one need wish for any thing better than
that theirs may be like a journey in South Wales, glowing
throughout with cheerfulness and prosperity.
In our way to Pontypool, a gigantic ruin of an oak tree
was pointed out at the distance of some fields, in the hol-
low trunk of which our driver assured us that he had seen
five cows amply lodged, the cavity being said to measure
thirty-eight feet in circumference. A still larger one existed
formerly in Devonshire, which a jovial landlord fitted up for
an ale-house, rent free, where “Hearts of oak,” and “The
wooden walls of old England,” might be most appropriate
HILL AND WALLEY. 265
ly sung in that “Greenwood-hall.” This vegetable giant
supplied abundant conversation, with the help of Gilpin's
Forest Scenery, till we reached the magnificent ruins of
Caerphilly Castle, chiefly remarkable for their vast extent.
The walls cover fifteen acres of ground, and being one mile
and a quarter in circumference, they look more like the
fragments of a city than of a single fortification. Here
a garrison of 20,000 men could once be lodged, and it be-
came the last hopeless refuge of Edward II. in his adver-
sity ; but now
“Those walls are bared to summer's rain,
On which an iron show'r for years had pour'd in vain.”
A deep ditch runs round the whole building, and an in-
ner ditch incloses the more important parts of the fortress.
The walls, ten feet thick, look like the rough causeway of
a street set upon end, as some irreverent hand removed a
handsome outside casing of freestone with which it was
formerly decorated. A grand hall remains, measuring se-
wenty feet in length, and some of the principal windows are
elegantly shaped in a sharp-pointed arch. Others seem to
have been irregularly slit like button-holes wherever they
were required; and four in the chapel reach from the sum-
mit to the floor. Such is the extraordinary strength of
those rifted walls, that when a thunder-bolt struck the
great tower of Caerphilly Castle, about four hundred years
ago, it was merely thrown off the perpendicular, but did
not entirely fall. This part of the edifice yet overhangs its
base, like the leaning spire at Pisa, being eleven feet awry.
The height of what remains is about eighty feet, and the
circumference sixty; so this immense mass presents a sin-
gular aspect. We trod on tiptoe in passing beneath, as it
seemed ready to be shaken down by a breath ; but certain-
ly the coincidence would have been somewhat porverse, if,
after remaining suspended in this tipsy attitude during four
23
266 HILL ANI). WALLEY a
centuries, the tower had chosen that precise moment to fall;
nevertheless such a catastrophe is in the chapter of accidents,
so we may note this down as one of the “hair-breadth
scapes” of our tour.
Whatever risks you're forc'd to run;
Ah! still take care of number one.
Caerphilly Castle was repaired by John Lord de Broase,
son-in-law to Llewellyn Prince of Wales, but it derived
great additional interest in our estimation from the obscu-
rity of its earliest origin, as that is buried in the tomb of
oblivion beyond the reach of even traditionary lore. In
Grose's Antiquities may be found a large assortment of
conjectures to choose among, but we are wearied of them.
Windsor Castle alone exceeds Caerphilly in extent 1 Will
that ever stand to see the day when future generations
wander in perplexity, such as ours, among its deserted halls,
while an old woman carrying her stick, represents the ge-
nius of history:— . . .
Troy once was great, but oh the scene is o'er,
Her glory vanish'd and her name no more
It may be said that the use of printing averts the possi-
bility of such a consummation now; but the very abun-
dance of books must prevent their being long of much
avail, and like the Byzantine historians, whom no one at-
tempts to read on account of their cumbrous bulk, the
writers of the present day will crush each other out of
sight and remembrance. The tower of Babel was raised
by men who wished to “make themselves a name ;” the
pyramids of Egypt were reared for a similar purpose, with-
out success; and from that time to the present day, We
read how kingdoms, and sceptres, and palaces have been
exalted to honour and have sunk into decay; but while all
HILL AND WALLEY. 267
that is of the earth, and the fashion of it, passes away, there
is one everlasting kingdom, a house not made with hands,
which is eternal. -
Caerphilly Castle then, has not a word to say for itself—
no one can tell for certain when it was born,--who inha-
bited, or who destroyed those hoary towers. Its origin
is as undiscoverable as that of the Nile. Even the old
cicerone knew no more than her stick, and did not attempt
a story, being like the knife-grinder who had no story to
tell. The tragedy and comedy of life must often have
been acted there by successive generations, but the curtain
has dropped over them all, and not a trace remains.
Yet hereafter “the dry bones shall live,” and their story
become known to an assembled world. Not an indivi-
dual who ever breathed but will then appear with our-
selves, not a mortal may either hope to escape, or fear to
be forgotten.
Caerphilly Castle evidently exhibits greatness in adver-
sity, while so silent an appeal to one’s feelings is irresistible.
The leaning tower gives an additional aspect of helpless
desolation to those crumbling walls, but “their memorial
is perished with them.” Here are keep-towers, dungeons,
courts, and banqueting-halls, which seem like the work of
some antediluvian giant ; and when we ask, where are all
the barons and knights, the heroes and warriors, who once
gave life and animation to those deserted walls, “echo an-
swers, where !” I paraded about in a fine rhapsody, with
the old woman limping behind; while A scrambled up
every inaccessible eminence, expecting her to follow. His
enterprising activity on such occasions can only be com-
pared to Mr. M'Kinnon's, who alleged that he ascended with
his heels uppermost, to the top of Antwerp tower. Instead
of entertaining us with the usual description of a ruin, our
cicerone treated me to a history of her own rheumatism,
apparently thinking the one fully more interesting, and
268 HILL AND WALLEY,
certainly more authentic than the other; while in return,
I suggested several infallible remedies, for which she ought
to have restored me her official fee, when we presented it.
Old Dr. once mentioned, that he never on any occa-
sion prescribed gratis, and even when examining his own
tongue before a glass, he always took a guinea out of one
pocket and dropt it into another, to keep up the habit.
When Tom Sheridan was consulted like me by an old lady
about her rheumatism, he gave his advice gratis, to “take a
mouthful of cold water, and to sit upon the fire till it boils.”
Some sprigs of ivy have been planted by Lord Bute round
the base of Caerphilly Castle, which promise to be very fine
and luxuriant several hundred years hence, if we could re-
turn then to see “these tottering towers with twisted ivy
tied.” Meanwhile, the plants look scarcely an hour old
beside the venerable walls they are intended to clothe. Our
guide suggested that visitors generally carry off a specimen
of the cement with which they are built; and mentioned
one gentleman, who had arrived that morning, intending to
take some fragments to India, where he expected to find
this mortar similar to that with which the Hindoo temples,
so celebrated for their strength, are built. I postponed ac-
cepting the offered treasure until we can freight a ship with
Barmouth shells, Snowdon minerals, Welsh harps, Anglesey
alum—pure and fine as spun glass, and copper ore from
Bettws, where the colours imitate every precious stone in
your jewel box, or, as you have none, in that of any one
else. Meantime, my prudence and self-denial are generally
testified by the final return of our baggage in as compact a
circumference as when we started, while, at the same time,
much to our honour, it remains undiminished by losses, and,
amidst many hasty departures, late arrivals, and early hours,
we missed not a single article by the way. Some travellers,
like Tom Thumb, might be traced along the road by their
dropping things wherever they stop ; but even A
's um-
FIII, L AND WALLEY. 269
brella must have been of a different nature from umbrellas
in general, because it seemed never either forgotten or mis-
laid. I respect the memory of every individual who can
preserve the same one for an entire month, and have al-
ways thought, that “The Adventures of an Umbrella”
might form an entertaining volume, like “The Adventures
of a Guinea,” as they change owners about equally often.
A gentleman in London used to maintain, that because he
once purchased an umbrella, now circulating far and wide
in the world, he had a perfect right always to remain in pos-
session of one; and, when caught in a shower he dropt into
the nearest coffee-house, calling, in a loud, authoritative
choice of several was instantly produced. -
Perhaps the safety of ours must be partly ascribed to
the constant occasion we had for it, on account of the per-
petual rainy season with which we were afflicted ; for never.
certainly did tourists wade through so inexorable a deluge,
though we generally followed the gentleman's example, who
boasted that no weather detained him at home, “unless it
rained pitchforks.” During a whole month, we saw only
five perfectly fine days, and even then the ground became
so marshy, that every step might be heard. We could only
have enjoyed the sunshine, if it had been possible to walk
without touching the ground. A sailor once complained,
that he had remained twenty years at sea without once en-
joying a fair wind ; and as nothing reconciles you to dis-
appointment more than hearing of others suffering more,
this ought to silence us; for, as the Irishman said, “It is not
so bad as if it had been worse.” g
Our drive on Thursday by Pontypool and Newport exhi.
bited a perfect garden of richly cultivated country, part of
which was in the park of Tredegar, Sir Charles Morgan's
fine place, where we admired a noble grove of magnificent
trees. As we flew along, one single glimpse of the man.
23%
270 HILL AND WALLEY.
sion was revealed, a long low building, round a large court,
the dullest pattern for houses that ever was devised, as few
windows can command any view, except staring at each
other, and in such residenees the passage must be long and
rambling, though the rooms are sometimes numerous and
handsome. A sociable gentleman in the north formerly,
whose heart was larger than his house, had always a plate
at the service of his friends, but not often a bed; therefore,
being anxious to enlarge his accommodations, he used to
propose getting a suite of rooms from London on the same
plan as Bonaparte's house at Longwood, with chairs and
tables like camp stools, to pack in a portable compass when
not wanted, and to be pitched like tents if required. Some
such plan would suit my notions of comfort extremely, as
the sight of so many chimneys without smoke, and windows
blinded by shutters, as we saw at Tredegar, and at many
other great houses on the road, made me shudder at the
thought of damp beds, rusty grates, lonely passages, cold
draughts, and dusty carpets. -
When we arrived at Cardiff, the whole city seemed in a
commotion, on account of the assizes, which are a terror
to travellers as well as to criminals. We stopped at two
inns without obtaining accommodation, and I began to
fear the last resource must be to get ourselves “lodged in
jail,” when at length the “Red Lion” looked propitiously
down, and received us with open doors. Here we became
established in remarkably comfortable quarters, command.
ing a fine view of the judge's carriage, a picturesque mob
of town officers, pages, trumpeters, and javelin men, besides
some groups of tipsy people.
For the honour of Wales, an assize without criminals
occasionally takes place here, which may remind specta-
tors that the tragedy of Hamlet was acted once, with the
part of Hamlet left out. Some important cases were to be
tried, however, now, and we thought Mr. Justice had
PIILL AND WALLEY". 271.
rather a condemnatory look when he alighted from his
carriage; but no punishment was awarded to any cri-
minal on this occasion worse than transportation, which
really, in these days of wandering and sight-seeing, ap-
pears scarcely to be considered a penalty. In the con-
vict ships, criminals amuse themselves by acting their trials
over again, dressing up with blankets to represent barris.
ter’s gowns, and mops well combed down on their heads
for wigs. Their wit is said to be astonishing, when ex-
hibited by these mock lawyers in cross-examining witness-
es, and detecting prevarication ; while at Botany Bay, the
ladies are often heard to remark what banishment it must
be to live in a country like England, whence none but
thieves and pickpockets seem ever produced ; Nations or
individuals taking the darkest view of each other, never
reach the truth; and there are worse places than Austra-
lia, as many convicts have declared, when exchanging
want, both of employment and food, which drove them to
desperation, for hopeful occupation and unceasing abun-
dance, in that distant but beautiful colony.
Our first eare on reaching Cardiff was, to see Lord Bute's
residence, a middle-aged building, with exactly the appear-
ance of Edinburgh jail. It was planned by the prime
minister of George III, and seems to be looked down upon
with apparent contempt by the ancient keep-tower of Car-
diff Castle, enclosed within its site, and which “braved a
thousand years the battle and the breeze.” There Robert,
Duke of Normandy, William the Conqueror's accomplish-
ed and unfortunate son, lingered during an imprisonment
of twenty-eight years. Certainly, as Dr. Johnson remark.
ed, “ that man is more or less than human who can bear
perpetual solitude.” It must have been a living death, to
exist in that dreary dungeon, with scarcely light enough
to see the horrors around him ; and history has even hint-
ed, that the cruel usurper, William Rufus, put out his pri-
272 EIILL AND WALLEY.
soner's eyes.—“A brother offended is harder to be won
than a strong city.” What consolations supported the in-
jured prince throughout that long period of wretchedness 7
—“the long years link'd with heavy day on day,”—his
ear unblessed by the voice of affection,-his tongue no
more to utter accents of confidence and friendship,-his
eyes never to behold the face of mortal man again, -no-
thing left for him but to think, to suffer, and to die. Yet
even for him there were perhaps thoughts of peace and
words of consolation. The still small voice of religion no
bars can exclude,-the prayers of our hearts are heard
wheresoever we exist,--there is a friend who never leaves
nor forsakes us, and if the sight be closed to external ob-
jects, the prisoner of hope may still “endure, as seeing
Him who is invisible,” for we “walk by faith, not by sight.”
Yet who can say in what degree such a calamity would af.
fect himself! It is, however, quite as great a waste of
time to fancy imaginary miseries, as to build castles in the
air, for the promise to believers is, that “as our day is, so
shall our strength be;” and many Christians suffer much
distress from anticipating possible afflictions, or by placing
themselves in the trying situations of others, conceiving
that their fortitude in such circumstances might ſail, where-
as if enough be given for present necessity, we may feel
sure that, like the manna in the desert, a double portion
will fall when a double supply is requisite. -
An ancient and extensive moat surrounds the shrubberies
and pleasure grounds at Cardiff Castle, and a fine park,
well stocked with deer, belongs to this place, but so com-
pletely excluded from view, that none of the beautiful trees
which ornament it appear visible from the windows, and
the deer are never probably seen until they appear in the
character of venison on the dinner table. -
We walked two miles, through meadows and corn fields,
to visit Llandaff, the most retired, modest, quiet little city I
EKILL AND WALLEY. 273
ever entered. A charming village green lies in the centre,
where groups of merry children were at play; and all
around are dotted the prettiest cottages imaginable, as
neat and small as if they had come out of a toy shop the
week before. The day was fine, and several of their envi-
able owners were at work among the flower beds, having
fully realized the poet’s wish for a small house and a large
garden. Many, indeed, were so choked up with roses,
that they seemed in danger, like Montezuma's courtiers, of
being smothered with flowers. A taste for gardening is
one of those pleasures in which we can scarcely go to ex-
cess, and for which there can be no bad motive. It was
the first employment appointed to man in his primitive
state, while it seems still the most natural and delightful of
all. “What is the use of music P’ asked a lady one day
at an indignant amateur ; and while the same blunt ques-
tion might be applied to most occupations of life, satisfac-
tory testimonials can be given in favour of horticulture in
all its branches. r
The high road leading into Llandaff seemed grass-grown
from want of use. We saw no trace of eart, carriage, gig,
or any sort of equipage, not even a wheel-barrow ; and
neither markets nor fairs occur to vary the profound se.
clusion of this primitive Hittle place. -
What remains of the ancient cathedral is extremely ele.
gant, but some parts have been most clumsily repaired and
modernized, reminding visitors of new finen put into an
old garment, the contrast is so coarse and glaring. The
beautiful windows are lancet-shaped, light and graceful in
the extreme. The arches are lofty, and adorned with ex-
quisitely carved foliage ; and the door-ways seem in per-
fect preservation, displaying a profusion of ornament,
Over one entrance stands the image of a bishop, and in
another place is an animated figure, with a Bible in his
hand, apparently very ancient. How strange it is to see
274 HILL AND VALLEY.
the representation of one who lived so long ago, that the
very stone chiselled into a likeness of him, has mouldered
with age, and yet to know that a bond of sympathy existed
between us, that he read the same book which we daily
read, that he has gone to his grave with the same hope
in which we desire to die, and that on the same day, he
shall rise to everlasting glory. In entering a church so
ancient and so venerable, it was pleasing to remember and
repeat the very words and prayers with which its walls
had first resounded ; and amidst the reverence inspired by
such a scene, where for centuries the clergyman in his pul-
pit was honoured as much as a king upon his throne, I
could not but contrast this with the feeling of captiousness
and insubordination so prevalent now, when every congre-
gation is supposed competent to criticise its own appointed
teacher. As an instance of the patronizing tone occa-
sionally assumed towards the clergy by some dissenters
among the lower orders, it was impossible not to smile
lately at a worthy old woman who had subscribed to raise
a house for her pastor, and she was heard to say, in a tone
of good-humoured protection, “We slated our minister
last year, and are thinking to paint and paper him in
spring.” . .
The bishop's palace at Llandaff would suit precise-
ly, instead of his present curacy, being of a retired aspect,
and quite a fit place in which to forget the world, and be
by the world forgotten. It is a commodious dwelling-
house, very large and substantial, but entirely destitute of
architectural beauty, standing in the centre of an exten-
sive hay field, which is sprinkled over with some rather el-
derly trees. It has a deep roof, slated à la Penrhyn quar.
ry, and the front elevation displays about thirty windows.
No tourist would pause one moment to admire this episco-
pal palace, though any one might pass a lifetime within its
HILL AND WAT,LEY. 275
walls most comfortably, and certainly rather more cheer-
fully than at the fortified castle of Cardiff.
A perfect constellation of distinguished names rose to "
our remembrance as having formerly held this see. Wat-
son, Barrington, Van Mildert, Sumner, and Copleston, all
men “having good report of them which are without.”
Some former prelates in this diocese, were not very liberal
of their presence, and it would be a great improvement in
church discipline if, instead of bishops granting a privi-
lege of non-residence to others, they were obliged to be-
come resident themselves. Were legislative enactments
in the present day confined to the abolition of pluralities
and non-residence, few persons would object. Perhaps it
might be no bad plan if absentees held their landed pro-
perty on the same tenure but the first thought of those
who would reform our church, seems always directed to-
wards making a grasp at its revenues, which are inherited
by bequest and other rights of succession, as clearly as
any estates belonging to individuals. It has been well re-
marked, that bishops in times of public safety, are like great
vessels in dock during peace, apparently inactive, but
when the call of state necessity arises, they spread their
canvass to the breeze, and arouse their dormant strength
to act as the bulwarks of religion and good government.
That great teacher—experience, proves this to be true,
and for those who doubt it, history has been written in vain.
During the revolution we read a multitude of instances in
which the dignity and firmness of Christian faith were
beautifully exhibited by the prelates of former days ; but
none impressed my mind more strikingly than the story of
Bishop Hackett. When a soldier of the parliamentary
army entered church during service, and levelled his gun
at the venerable prelate, threatening to fire if he did not
instantly discontinue preaching ; the servant of God
calmly continued his sermon, saying, “You may do your
276 HILL AND WALLEY,
duty, but I must do mine.” If we could all act in such a
spirit, amidst the trials of life, whether small or great, then
“neither death nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor
powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height,
nor depth, nor any other creature, could separate us ſtom
the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus.
; t; $:
IHILL AND WALLEY. 277
CHAPTER XIX.
“Nature, tortured twenty thousand ways,
Resigns herself with exemplary patience
To guide-books, rhymes, tours, sketches, illustrations.”
BYRON.
My DEAR Cousin,_The writing materials with which
we are usually afflicted at an inn, would remind you of the
gentleman, who called for some, at a country house lately,
in order to despatch letters of consequence, when the foot-
man replied, “You can have plenty of ink to-morrow, Sir,
as master is then to have his shoes blacked.”
On Friday we wheeled off from Cardiff to Chepstow
again, through an almost unbroken orchard, extending
several miles. The country was rich, but almost feature-
less, and amidst so continued a succession of ornamental
landscapes, I would at last give up half-a-mile of orchard
for a bit of bare rock or a few whim-bushes.
Boys in Monmouthshire, must be unlike any other race
of boys. The fruit grows so near the ground, that they
might eat ripe apples and pears off the branches; yet,
though we observed no threats of man-traps, spring-guns,
or formidable dogs, while the walls might be leaped over
as easily as the walls of Romulus, not a pippen seemed
missing. Did you ever hear that the late Lord D 5
a great enthusiast in fruit, once, with much care and ex-
pense, reared a splendid collection of apples, which were
gathered in a basket, to astonish the next horticultural
meeting. Having a mischievous boy then on a visit, he
took his solemn promise never to eat one ; but in an un-
lucky hour the young gentleman finding himself unobserved,
24
278 HILL AND WAT,LEY.
and not conceiving he was bound to abstain from “tasting,”
privately bit a piece out of each apple !
We took an inconceivably long walk at Chepstow, put-
ting on our seven league boots to ascend the celebrated
Llancaut rocks, under a deluge of rain. From thence a
double view becomes visible of the Wye and its windings,
which brought to mind, what an American said of the
Thames from Richmond Hill, “Am I to admire this A
parcel of bushes with several yards of penny ribbon thrown
carelessly in the midst of them P Here the Bristol Chan-
nel looks exceedingly muddy, like a concentrated London
fog, and the banks very tame and unattractive.
Our drive to Worcester on Saturday continued extremely
fruitful, as the very air seemed to taste of apples till my
teeth were on edge. The numerous cows pasturing under-
neath those extensive orchards probably catch a stray
pippin occasionally as it falls, and ruminate upon it. I
wonder if any collector has in his museum the apple which
struck Sir Isaac Newton on the nose, and caused him to
discover the laws of attraction ? It might be added to the
valuable box of relics we formerly sold at a bazaar of lady’s
work, containing “The pebbles which Demosthenes held in
his mouth when he practised oratory, one of the flies killed
by Domitian, a bottle of the malmsey in which the Duke
of Clarence was drowned ; some of the gunpowder used at
the Gunpowder Plot; a piece of the cake toasted by King
Alfred, and very much burnt; a card from the pack with
which Charles VI. amused himself in the Bastile; part of
Sir Walter Raleigh's first cigar; a slice of the tart with
which Sir Thomas Overbury was poisoned; and the fly
liberated by Sterne, when he said, ‘There is room enough
in the world for thee and me.’”
The oldest pear existing is that preserved in East Lothi-
an during four hundred years, by the Browns of Coulston,
who, according to tradition, shall only possess their estate
^ HILL AND WALLEY, 279
so long as it remains extant. Some daring visitor a centu-
ry ago attempted to bite it in jest, leaving a mark of teeth
still obvious, and soon afterwards family circumstances
made it necessary for a farm to be sold ! The corporation
of Haddington then presented a silver box for the fated
pear to be lodged in, which still contains this monument of
ancient superstition. The pear trees we passed near
Worcester are equal to well grown beeches or oaks for
size, and exhibit most gracefully varied forms, but do not
seem improved in picturesque effect by the custom so gene-
ral here, of white-washing their stems. Nature abhors
white, which is never allowed long to remain very glaring;
but here the active housewives refresh it as often on fruit
trees as on stair-cases. . We observed bits of scenery by
the wayside, which Moreland would have delighted to
sketch, an old woman carrying her basket, and disappearing
along a pathway in the thicket, or a group of joyous school
girls lingering near a stile; but still there seemed a want
of good rough fore-grounds to complete the picture. With
fruit trees above, pasture beneath, and sometimes a mine
underground, proprietors must find their rent-rolls here
multiplied by the rule of three, not in fractions, as other
landholders often do. In very productive seasons, one
acre of orchard produces twenty hogsheads of cider, the
price amounting to two guineas each hogshead ; but a
plentiful is generally followed by a deficient year. Includ.
ing hops, wheat, and apples, there are three harvests per
annum in this country, still better than what the peasants
of Tivoli wished to enjoy, when they petitioned Pope Pius
VI. for a miraculous gift of two harvests every season.
His holiness most graciously granted their request, adding,
however, that he meant to bestow on them another distinc-
tion, “whereas other countries have a year of only twelve
months, you shall have one of twenty-four !” Hops are
said to be quite as ornamental to the landscape as the
280 HILL AND WALLEY.
boasted vines of France; and the people of this country
have them everywhere, except in their beer, which is very
indifferent. The perry, however, seems excellent—quite
equal to second-rate champagne; but can there be anything
sourer than vinegar, to which I may compare the cider'ſ
On returning to England, the accelerated rate at which
we now drove seemed as if an additional pair of horses
were yoked to the carriage; and, after being so long ac-
customed to the funeral pace of Welsh post-boys, I almost
feared at first that we were run off with. The conse-
quence was, that our new, patent, anti-atrition, never-to-
be-oiled wheels, very nearly took fire The day indeed
was so cold, that A almost wished they might do so,
to warm us. They screamed along the road as if we had
been killing them; and a blacksmith, where A stopped
for assistance, not understanding the improved invention
at all, we were obliged to continue our noisy progress,
while I watched in momentary expectation of their going
off like squibs or Cathrine wheels. Story-tellers should
always leave off at the most interesting crisis; so you
may either suppose we stuck entirely, or that it became a
case of spontaneous combustion. A large proportion of
the cottages here are flanked by Lombardy poplars, stand-
ing like tall sentinels on each side, which add greatly to
their dignity; and the rivers all “wear the willow,” being
edged with trees of that species, so old that they probably
furnished osiers to the Druids. We engaged in a long
discussion respecting the origin of that proverbial expres-
sion, “wearing the willow,” and came to a satisfactory
decision, that it originated from Dido standing on the
“wild sea bank,” with a willow in her hand, while she
vainly waved it for Eneas to return. This led to a di-
gression respecting the traditionary story of the “Forget
me not;” and probably many sentimental friends and
attachés have exchanged little turquoise imitations of that
IIILL AND VALLEY. 281
delicate flower without an idea how it obtained a designa-
tion so very serviceable on such interesting occasions. It
is well known, however, in Germany, where two betrothed
lovers once upon a time strolled by the margin of a deep
but narrow torrent, on which occasion the young bride,
observing a lovely blue flower ornamenting the opposite
bank, expressed an excessive desire to obtain it. The
lover—as all lovers, without exception, would have done
in similar circumstances—instantly plunged into the
stream, swam to the opposite side, picked the flower, and
was in full progress back, when suddenly his strength
failed, and, having only power to throw his prize upon the
bank, he sunk to rise no more, calling out those memorable
words, “Forget me not l” The bereaved young lady in-
stantly went mad, and, taking up the fatal flower, she
wandered with it in her hand throughout the country,
never speaking another word until she died, but, “Forget
me not ſ” Among other proverbial expressions, it is very
commonly said, when talking of secrets, that they are
“under the rose,” which originated among the Romans,
who hung up one near the roof of their apartments when
private affairs were discussed ; and it was in allusion to
this custom that Luther adopted a rose for his seal.
A strange popish custom prevailed in Monmouthshire
and other western counties till very recently. Many fu-
nerals were attended by a professed “sin-eater,” hired to
take upon him the guilt of the deceased. By swallowing
bread and beer, with a suitable ceremony before the
corpse, he was supposed to free it from every penalty for
past offences, appropriating the punishment to himself.
Men who undertook so daring an imposture must all have
been infidels, willing, apparently, like Esau, to sell their
birthright for a mess of pottage. -
The Malvern Hills rise to a degree of dignity which
would scarcely have disgraced even Wales; and the little
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282 HILL AND WALLEY.
wooded eminences around seem like a succession of punch
bowls turned upside down. One, called the Herefordshire
beacon, was cut into a fortress, within which a handsome
gold crown having been found some time ago, was sold by
the countryman who picked it up for £37 though the jew-
els were afterwards valued at £1500. It should be a part
of education universally to learn a proper estimate of pre-
cious stones, as every person, since the time of Saad and
Saadi in the Arabian Nights, has a story of his own to tell
how he either paid too much, or received too little for jew-
els. On the Worcester side of these hills, the country be-
comes level, as if a carpenter’s plane had gone over it;
and any one might safely undertake a steeple chase across
the whole extent. The town of Malvern faces in this di-
rection, which is to be lamented, as the western side seems
much more beautiful.
Here lodging houses are built on a magnificent scale,
and we saw crowds of healthy looking people, whose com-
plexions did credit to the salubrity of Malvern Wells, rid-
ing or strolling about the neighbourhood. While we ex-
changed horses, I sent for a tumbler of the celebrated wa-
ters, and, being fully impressed with an idea that all whole-
some springs are exceedingly nauseous, I hurried over the
draught with as heroic an effort of resolution as if it had
been a decoction of assafoetida, after which I paused, in
dreadful expectation of the arriére goût / What an unex-
pected dénouement The Malvern waters are illustrious
only for their singular purity, clear as crystal and cold as
ice. I almost fancied that the delicious beverage had been
administered as a hoax; and it reminded us of the High-
lander who became enraged when a doctor ordered one of
his family to try the Harrogate waters. “Water P’ cried
he indignantly, “where do you find better water than from
our ain hill-side l’’
HILL AND WALLEY. 283
CHAPTER XX.
“Had seem the world, which is a curious sight,
And very much unlike what people write.”
BYRON.
My DEAR Cousin, - We continue to push on and
keep moving at a rate that would satisfy young Rapid
himself. While thus studying life and manners out of
a carriage window, going, like Lord Anson, round the
world without being in it, travellers take much the same
bird’s eye view of persons, places, and things, that the
man in the moon does when passing over rural solitudes
and city crowds, seeing and being seen, yet unknowing
and unknown. It was unhandsomely alleged once, that
nothing makes friends so apt to tire of each other as a long
journey, because every object appears perpetually changing
except our travelling companions, who remain constantly
stationary ; but the mind is like a mirror, taking so altered
an aspect from scenes and events when they occur,
that individuals may become as varied as Matthews in his
“at homes.” How often an absent acquaintance is praised
for being “always the same ;” but it seems doubtful whe-
ther that be a desirable qualification, or even possible in
new places and circumstances; because a fresh relay of
thoughts and feelings is yoked on as regularly as the
horses at every stage, being now and then so completely
altered, that you might suppose another person’s head sub-
stituted for your own. If such an exchange could occa-
sionally be effected, I have often thought how delightful it
might be during one day to wear Mrs. ’s To see
with her eyes, to hear with her ears, and to think with her
284. HILL AND VALLEY.
understanding ! What a sudden expansion of intellect
would instantly take place | What large well-furnished
store-rooms would be opened; what treasures of wisdom
and knowledge displayed, and how perplexities and diffi.
culties would vanish away, like clouds before the sun ; but
not being like the people Baron Munchausen describes,
wearing heads like hats under their arms, we must be satis-
fied to make the best of things as they are. -
Worcester is a fine old city, with handsome airy streets,
a grand market-place, and excellent shops. According to
the etiquette of tourists, I ought now to state the exact
height of every steeple, and to add a statement how many
inhabitants are supposed to be in the town ; but not hav-
ing the last census of population within reach, nor time to
count heads as they pass, I must allow you to people it
according to fancy. We unluckily hit upon the wrong
inn, affording worse accommodation than any which has
hitherto fallen to our lot ; but no one should ever leave
home, who can feel seriously annoyed at the vicissitudes
of life experienced on a journey, where our chief amuse-
ment consists in variety, and the only essentials of comfort
are—civility and cleanliness. In one respect our attentive
landlord out-did my wishes, owing to a ridiculous equivoque.
When ordering dinner on Sunday, wishing to drop a
hint of our opinions respecting a due observance of the
Sabbath, I said, as he was hastening out of the room,
“You do not, of course, bake upon Sunday, therefore we
shall have no pastry at dinner.” This was meant to be
an explicit prohibition ; and if you or I had been standing,
napkin in hand for orders, no doubt we should have under-
stood it so, but our worthy host thought I was finding fault
with the probable deficiency, and accordingly, sent up
such a second course, hot from the ovex, that the odour
might have reached Sir Andrew Agnew in London, and
seemed equally unseasonable to ourselves. When dishes
HILL AND WALLEY. 285
appear at second-rate hotels-like this, in a domino dress of
white and brown sauces, all perfectly incog.—while
pigeons are turned into mutton-chops, and pork into lamb,
I sometimes think of the unlucky supercargo in China,
who made his first dinner at Canton, enjoying a savoury
hash, but unable to guess what might be the ingredients,
he turned to the waiter, a black, ignorant of English, and
pointing to the dish, said, in an inquiring tone, “Quack,
quack, quack!” On which the attendant shook his head
in the negative, answering, “Bow, wow, wow !”
We were impatient on Monday to visit the china
manufactories, which astonished and entertained me beyond
expression. Several plates, tea-cups, and jugs were mo-
delled in a single minute for our benefit, while the process
looked so easy that we could apparently have done it our-
selves. Whatever shape I bespoke was instantly executed
by the principal artist ; who seized a lump of dough,
thrust his finger into the centre, turned a wheel rapidly
round, and instantly we saw order spring out of confusion,
and an elegant jar or basin emerged. How impossible not
to remember that passage in Scripture, where men are
compared to clay in the hands of a potter, all fashioned
according to His will, all bound to fulfil the duty assigned
us, and only useful when we keep to that.
Painting china seemed so amusing an occupation, that
I should like to have been engaged for a month in that
department, though great practice must be necessary
to calculate sufficiently on the change of colours to be pro-
duced by the intense heat of the furnace. Chinese rouge
is green till touched by water, but that is not a greater al-
teration than many which take place here. Even the
gold and silver are black when laid on, but become puri-
fied by fire into the bright aspect they wear at last. Art
thus brings to mind, as well as nature, the comparisons
of Scripture, and none are more consolatory to the afflict-
286 HILL AND WALLEY.
ed, than those which point out that “the furnace is for
gold,” and that all who shall be purified must pass through
many fiery trials, while the Lord himself is the refiner who
watches the process, and preserves all that trust in Him, to
come forth in safety; “that the trial of our faith, being
much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it
be tried with fire, might be found to praise, and honour,
and glory, at the appearing of Jesus Christ.” It is re-
marked by an eminent divine, that a silversmith must con-
stantly watch the metal while in the furnace, and only knows
the ore to be sufficiently purified by seeing his own image
reflected in it; and how beautifully this fact adds interest
to the comparison of Christ watching his own people in
affliction till his likeness be formed in them.
The most splendid service of china that I ever had oc-
casion to admire, was in preparation here for the Pasha.
of Egypt. Plates which might have graced a fricandeau
by Monsieur Ude, are, by a melancholy perversion of fate,
about to pass their days in serving up kouskous and pillaus
to barbarians, who never heard the epicure's distinction
between mere eating, versus, good living ; and who igno-
rantly imagine that “to live well, means nothing but to
eat.” On each of those beautiful plates, six small circles
of embossed gold were inlaid, like the richly carved frames
of as many miniature pictures, and these enclosed a medal-
lion, painted in brilliant colours on a white ground to imi-
tate ivory. Our ancestors, who had nothing better to dine
off than platted rushes or wooden trenchers, might have
been rather astonished to be told that the clay under their
feet would, in the gradual progress of improvement, assume
such forms of elegance and beauty as now appear in this
magnificent manufactory. A superb dinner-set was also
in preparation for his Majesty, displaying his twelve prin-
cipal orders arranged in a wreath round the royal arms,
the effect of which seemed quite princely. Whoever has
HILL AND WALLEY, 287
the honour of dining at court now, may arrange his pota-
toes on the order of St. Patrick, his mutton on the Golden
Fleece, and his fruit on the Thistle.
The shopwoman who exhibited this elegant service men-
tioned that it was in preparation for his Majesty’s “ban-
quey" at Windsor; and as she appeared without excep-
tion to be the finest lady I ever observed behind a counter,
she is well worthy of commemoration. This manufactory
belonged to the firm of “Flight, Barr and Flight ;” so we
supposed she must of course be a Miss Flight. Our cice-
rone, in return, evidently mistook us for personages of
very considerable calibre ; and as A– strolled about the
shop, recognising various coats-of-arms on the plates, cri-
ticising their correctness, and naming at once the gran-
dees to whom they appertained, she very naturally ima-
gined them all his intimate friends, while he thus uncon-
sciously inspired her with increasing reverence and awe.
At last she shewed me nothing under fifty guineas, and
seemed in momentary expectation of orders for a service of
china, to be decorated with at least sixteen quarterings
and a coronet. Meantime my whole ingenuity became
exercised to discover something of moderate price, which,
according to etiquette, might be purchased for the good of
the house. Nothing seemed visible, however, but what
would have emptied my purse on the spot, and obliged me
to put my affairs in trust till I could afford to travel home-
wards. We had previously given a donation to the work-
men ; but after lingering so long, it seemed impossible to
disappoint our friend behind the counter, and I wanted
nerve to proclaim my own insignificance, by inquiring for
any thing cheap, or by saying as your little boy did when
entering a shop with the first money he ever possessed,
“Have you got any thing here for sixpence 7” In the
midst of this dilemma, two strangers, a lady and gentle-
man, from whom our cicerone evidently augured no great
288 HILL AND WALLEY,
things, though they had viewed the manufactory along
with us, came up to inquire what might be charged for a
small pair of candlesticks which they detected in some ob-
scure corner. When the price was stated to be ten shil-
lings, the young lady hastily put them both down, as if
their handles had suddenly become red hot ; but on seeing
this, I instantly proposed that she and I should “take the
pair between us !” If our conductor’s countenance at
this moment could be copied here, it would be the most
laughable sight you could see ; but in order to have some
conception of her amazement, try to fancy how Miss Bid-
dy Fudge looked when she saw the supposed King of Prus-
sia measuring ribbons behind a counter. The brace of
candlesticks, meantime, was impartially divided, and I
scarcely recovered my gravity during the whole evening,
while A– every now and then amused himself with a joke
at the expense of our unknown friend and myself for hav-
ing accomplished our deliverance at so cheap a rate.
Next day, when leaving the cathedral, this lady and gen-
tleman renewed their intercourse with us in the chancel,
and my partner in the candlesticks, before taking leave,
told me, with a very sly look, that her sitting-room was
next to ours at the hotel, and divided only by an almost
transparent partition. “Your brother amused us exceed-
ingly yesterday evening,” she added, “ and we could not
make up our minds to lose the joke, though it would have
been fair to give you notice that walls have ears.” We
spoke in whispers during the rest of our séjour at Worces-
ter.
The cathedral here seems much larger than the one at
Hereford. A splendid Gothic building ! but be not afraid,
for I shall never attempt to be technical about the archi.
tectural elevation, the nave, the transept, or the clustered
pillars, all beautiful,--but indescribably so. Our friend
used to say, that she had lionized half-a-dozen cathe-
HILL AND WALLEY. 289
drals, without observing any difference, except in their
relative size, being invariably like so many giraffes, with
long low bodies, and a tall towering neck at one end, which
is certainly somewhat the shape of that we now entered.
Here the Parliamentary army did all they could to dese-
crate and disfigure the sacred edifice. They stabled horses
in the aisles, destroyed the organ, broke the painted win-
dows, defaced the monuments, tore the bibles and missals,
and seized the surplices, in which a troop of dragoons
dressed themselves and rode through the streets.
The monuments at Worcester cathedral are numerous,
and form an interesting exhibition of human character.
In the first place, a colonel or major in the army lies
there, whose memory is to remain “till history shall pe.
rish.” Alas ! for the partial affection that could believe
this possible ! Not far distant, a long epitaph on a re-
spectable old gentleman concludes with saying,
“Beyond all pens his praise will best appear,
Only to tell 'tis Inglethorpe is here.”
One name which will live always in the memory, though
not in the praise of men, is inscribed there. The tomb
of King John, an oblong square sarcophagus, surmounted
by a recumbent figure, occupies the centre of the choir, not
placed, however, between St. Oswald and St. Wolstan,
which was his own last desire, to keep off evil spirits.
How strange that he, the most irreligious of our English
kings, suspected by some writers to have been an atheist,
and accused by many, including Southey, of turning Mus-
sulman, never shewed a symptom of repentance, and yet
wished to benefit by the sanctity of others but such are
the inconsistencies of professed unbelievers | Even Vol.
taire built a church ! When King John’s tomb was open-
ed, about thirty years ago, to ascertain if his body was ac-
tually there, the skeleton, measuring only five feet three
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290 HILL AND WALLEY.
inches, was found, and much of the dress remained entire,
especially a monk’s cowl, in which history tells that his
head was enveloped as a passport through purgatory. In
that everlasting kingdom, where “monarchs shall wear no
crown but the crown of their virtues,” his has been dim-
med by many a crime, though we are not permitted to
judge in the case of any one what repentance may have
been given and what mercy granted. When King Richard
forgave John the injuries he had done to him, his language
expressed the deepest sarcasm that could have been uttered,
“I pardon my brother, and hope as easily to forget his in-
juries as he will my forgiveness.” How curious to be
standing so near the very hand which signed Magna Char-
taſ Pſe lost all by grasping at too much ; and how con-
stantly do we observe this to be the case in our every-day
experience. From the boy and his butterfly to the Empe-
ror Napoleon, I have seen every gradation of disappoint-
ment endured, merely from too excessive an ardour in the
pursuit. It might moderate every feeling of excessive
anxiety, if all men kept their eyes open to remark in the
case of others how many favourite objects are lost from too
keenly pursuing them. “Impatience is a blundering guide.”
I have seen legacy-hunters and fortune-hunters over-reach
themselves and lose all—an extreme solicitude for health
bring on disease—an excessive eagerness for education
terminated by death—an ardent desire for fame leading to
efforts which destroyed it ; and even too earnest a desire
to please in society renders success next to impossible.
Truly useful might those words of Scripture be to us in
every circumstance of life, “Let your moderation be known
unto all men.”
It is interesting to perceive, that by visiting all cathe-
drals and churches in England, we might find the burying-
place of nearly every character in our national history.
I remember once expressing some doubts whether such a
HILL AND WALLEY. 291
Prince ever existed as William of Hatfield, and a very short
time afterwards, I became enlightened by discovering his
tomb in the chancel at York. At Worcester we met with
Prince Arthur, elder brother of Henry VIII. Catharine of
Arragon's first husband, who is only remembered in history,
because he served as the excuse for her being afterwards
divorced. The marble chapel in which he was buried is
carved in wreaths of roses, to represent the houses of York
and Lancaster; and so pure and delicate is the workman-
ship, that it seems as if built with ivory fans. Of this
little edifice, Rickman in his standard work on architecture
gives a technical description, to which none but the ini-
tiated could attach any very distinct image, “A piece of
late, but very good perpendicular composition.” Ignorant
readers suppose all buildings perpendicular ; but this vul-
gar error cannot be too soon corrected.
The Countess of Salisbury is buried here, famous for
having originated the order of the Garter; and in case of
any doubts as to her identity, or any disputes respecting
the truth of historical tradition, several angels are repre-
sented strewing garters round the tomb. One female figure
is also in this cathedral, exhibiting a lady abbess seven feet
high. Her dress was almost in the present fashion, with
long waist, full skirt, mob cap, and rather graceful drape-
ries. Several tombs are dated as early as the year 700.
There are many knights reclining in full armour, and bi-
shops with their pastoral staffs. St. Wolstan’s is one of the
most ancient—a prelate who objected so strongly to any
indulgence in dress, that, though long hair is the cheapest
of all ornaments, he frequently took up a sharp instrument,
when penitents knelt for his blessing, and cut their tresses
off with his own episcopal hands. -
Specimens of sculpture are shewn in this cathedral by
Nollekins, Chantrey, and Roubiliac. The most affecting
of these is raised to the memory of Miss Digby, who died
292 HILL AND WALLEY.
of consumption at the age of nineteen. Few could gaze
long at this graceful work of Chantrey's, and not feel in-
clined to exclaim, “Oh that those lips had motion 1"
The feeble and emaciated, but resigned aspect of the young
sufferer, is beautifully represented, while with a look of de-
vout contemplation she is languidly reclining on a couch.
The very word consumption brings exactly such a form be-
fore our imaginations, and I almost felt as if we ought to
see the hectic colour burning on her cheek, and the bright
eye full of hope with which its victims approach the grave,
dying like a bright sun-set, with colours more lovely than
the glare of meridian day. -
Another very touching monument is erected here to the
memory of a gentleman who died suddenly at Worcester,
when travelling on a party of pleasure. It represents his
lovely young wife in an attitude of deep despondency, car-
rying her infant, and leading two interesting children by
her side. The very marble seemed to weep, so affecting
was the whole grouping and expression. I returned again
and again to renew my wonder that dumb figures could be
so eloquent, but the simple pathos of their appearance
strikes at once to the heart. It seemed as if sorrow had
turned them all into stone. In the days of childhood I
often wished that when a death was about to take place, it
could be put to the vote who might best be spared from the
world ; but in such a case, how seldom the blow would fall
where it does the most beloved, the wisest, and the best,
are generally soonest ſitted for a better world, while the
mere refuse too often remains behind. Roubiliac’s cele-
brated monument to Bishop Hough is a noble piece of sculp-
ture. You could scarcely wish to see any one more alive
than the venerable prelate,_ascending towards heaven
from a sarcophagus of black marble, in an attitude of tri-
umph and a countenance full of dignity and animation.
His hands are clasped in apparent devotion,-his arm rests
EIILL AND VALLEY. 293
on a Bible, and his drapery is so light, it looks as if a breeze
might blow it aside. On a tablet of marble is represented
his interview with the royal commissioners, when he refus-
ed obedience to king James's mandate, ordering him to re-
tire from the presidency of Magdalen College to make way
for a Roman Catholic. “Hough's unsullied mitre shone”
until he attained the age of ninety-two; when, full of years
and honours, after refusing to be Archbishop of Can-
terbury, and spending a fortune on improving his diocese,
he calmly and peacefully resigned his spirit to Him who
gave it. Amongst innumerable tombs of bishops, heroes,
kings, and statesmen, the greatest monument of all at Wor-
cester Cathedral is to the memory of Mrs. Rae.
The painted glass window in this beautiful edifice seems
so richly tinted that it looks like an assembly of precious
stones, or the coloured globes at an apothecary’s shop, and
the organ is so splendidly decorated with carving, that the
repairs alone lately cost £300.
Not far from the cathedral stands Edgar's tower, which
was an old, or at least a middle-aged, building in the time
of William the Conqueror. The walls are still in perfect
preservation, but they attract so little notice at Worcester,
that we could scarcely find an individual to direct us where
they stood. -
When we proceeded to Gloucester, the town was so crowd-
ed that no accommodation could be obtained at “ The
Bell,” that great hotel, which literally “bears the bell ?”
among all others; especially considering that two of our
most eminent bishops were born there. The Spa was, how-
ever, more hospitable, though I almost grudged to go under
any roof whatever, on so beautiful an evening, during
which the stars shone gloriously, and we had been tempted
out of the carriage to walk some miles, studying and admir.
ing “The poetry of heaven ;” the calm serene magnificence
of worlds unknown, which, like the mysteries of religion,
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294 HILL AND WALLEY,
are revealed in part, that our minds may be elevated by
contemplating wonders, beyond the limited grasp of our
minds ever fully to understand in this world. Those bright
constellations are the only visible objects unconnected with
us, and with our existence. Had they never appeared, we
might have fancied the works of creation limited to earth,
but it raises beyond measure our conceptions of Almighty
power, and diminishes to nothing our own self-importance,
when considering in such a scene of magnificence, how in-
pressively “the heavens declare the glory of God.” In
the South Sea Islands the inhabitants believed, till our mis-
sionaries taught their pupils better information, that the Sun
and moon were husband and wife, and that the stars were
their children ; but while ignorance thus degrades the
mind into mean ideas of the celestial universe, know-
ledge increases the wonder and reverence of those who
study them, till the very wisest might say like Sir
Isaac Newton, who declared, after all his labours, that he
felt “like a school-boy picking up shells on a boundless
shore.” There are simple pleasures in astronomy level to
every mind; and while renewing the intimacy of childhood
with those constellations which were the delight of our ear-
ly days, we reflect with awe and wonder, that the most an-
cient patriarchs in Scripture gazed at Orion and the
Pleiades, knowing them by name and form as we do ; and
that yet the hour shall come, when “the stars of heaven
shall fall unto the earth, even as a fig-tree casteth her un-
timely figs when she is shaken of a mighty wind.”
The order in which we visited these western cathedrals
of England was so arranged, that they successively enlarg-
ed in dimensions, and might almost have been packed within
each other like Chinese balls, Carlisle, Chester, Bangor,
Hereford, Worcester, and last, certainly not least, Glouces.
ter, which, compared with its predecessors, might be called
superlative, though taking it as a cathedral, even including
HILL AND WALLEY. 295
$4.
the beautiful tower, it would only walk out in the scale of
precedence, after about nine or ten others, which rank higher
in dignity and consideration. As to external appearance
Gloucester Cathedral is highly decorated, and the chancel,
with its lofty arches, its long aisles, and its coloured glass
window eighty-six feet high, looked so grand and impres-
sive, that groups of people, who were scattered on the pave-
ment, seemed diminished to nothing, like insects crawling
on the floor.
What must the Temple of Jerusalem have been, when the
disciples on beholding it, exclaimed with wonder and ad-
miration, “see what manner of stones and what buildings
are here !” Nothing can exceed the veneration and awe na-
turally experienced on entering a sacred edifice of vast
proportions, so that we are tempted to say, with senti-
ments like those of Jacob, “this is no other than the house
of God.” The silent grandeur of ancient architecture ex-
ceeds in its effect upon our minds any other visible object,
except the stars in the firmament. An excitement of feel-
ing is produced, which might naturally be mistaken for
devotion, while contemplating its mighty proportions,—its
lengthened duration, — the long reach of thought with
which we are carried back into past history, and look forward
to future ages, believing that within these walls successive
generations have heard, and shall yet continue to hear, the
same venerable liturgy, =to enjoy the same pleasing emo-
tions,—and perhaps even to think the same thoughts as ours.
While my whole attention was absorbed in admiring what
was to be seen, suddenly the loud thunder of the organ,
accompanied by a chorus of voices pealing upwards to the
highest pinnacles of the ceiling, added the charm of mu-
sic to that of sculpture, painting, and architecture, which
we had already enjoyed. All combined to direct our me-
ditations towards that everlasting temple, where we shall
ourselves be eternal; and also to anticipate the time when
206 HILL AND WALLEY.
men and angels shall unite their voices in one anthem of
praise;—“The ransomed of the Lord-shall come to Zion
with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads; they shall
obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee
away.” -
A fine old tesselated pavement deserves to be noticed
near the altar, and a curious whispering gallery is shewn
in Gloucester Cathedral, on which these lines are inscrib-
ed :—
Doubt not but God, who sits on high,
Thy secret prayers can hear;
When a dead wall thus cunningly
Conveys soft whispers to the ear.
The most ancient tomb here is that of Osiric, king of the
West Saxons, whose marble effigy is laid out in propria
persona, with a miniature model of the cathedral, which he
founded, cut in stone, and laid on his breast. The monks
used to relate of some deceased 'monarch, possibly Osiric
himself, that when his good and bad actions were weighed
against each other in purgatory, the scales were going ra-
ther against him till a friend threw in all the stones with
which he had built a cathedral, and thus the decision was
carried in his favour. We were also shewn a representa-
tion of the ill-treated and unhappy Robert of Normandy,
ruined, like most weak princes, by a blind devotedness to
favourites. His image is carved in Irish oak, and painted
to imitate life. The attitude appeared so lively, with one
leg thrown over the other, as if he were in the very act of
rising to make his escape, that it seemed almost emblema-
tical of that release from a dreary imprisonment which
death at last bestowed. He must have been apparently
very handsome, the features in this statue are so noble and
commanding, while his head displayed a phrenological de-
velopment which Gall and Spurzheim might have envied.
IHILL AND VALLEY. 297
This tomb was broken to fragments by Oliver Cromwell's
troops, but since carefully repaired and repainted. Not
far off is a very affecting monument to Mrs. Morley, who
died at sea on her way from India. She is represented ris-
ing out of the ocean, with an infant in her arms, the expres-
sion of countenance full of hope, and the attitude very grace-
ful. Underneath these words were inscribed, “And the
sea gave up the dead which were in it.” On Sunday
afternoon, when we revisited this cathedral, the assembling
congregation produced a striking effect, wandering in mis-
cellaneous groups among the pillars and tombs, while their
footsteps and voices were multiplied by the echoes around,
until we might have fancied that troops of invisible beings
were walking and speaking like ourselves. In so impres-
sive a scene it was impossible to help smiling, when we first
observed the entrance of an over-dressed modern dandy,
with a glass at his eye, who lounged about during some time,
assuming an air of supercilious exclusiveness. He was ad-
mirably got up for the Lord Trinket of a comedy, with rings,
chains, and seals innumerable, an elegant bouquet reposing
on his velvet collar, his hair divided in a Saxon arch on his
forehead, and his boots as if he had taken the pattern pair
from a shop window. Really the power of contrast could
no farther go I *
This cathedral has been greatly enriched by offerings to
the shrine of Edward II. another unfortunate prince, also
buried within its walls; and in the cemetery Bishop Hoop-
er was burnt to death by order of Queen Mary. He was so
opposed to any “fringes of the scarlet robe,” that even af.
ter attaining to the highest episcopal dignities, this prelate
refused to appear in his canonical habit, as having too Po.
pish an aspect. A similar prejudice still remains so strong-
ly among some country parishes in Scotland, that the pea-
santry object to the simple Geneva cloak usually worn by
clergymen in the north. An Englishman might occasion-
298 HILL AND WALLEY a
ally be astonished to see a reverend divine ascend the pul-
pit in his great-coat, and hang his hat on a peg behind him
in the pulpit before commencing public worship. Indeed,
you may still remember the venerable Presbyterian preach-
er, who made a rule never to take his hat off until he had
been some minutes in church.
The cathedral service is divided among so many officials,
that a stranger might almost compare it to the numerous sub-
divisions of labour in an Indian establishment. One minor
canon gives prayers; the choir in some different part of
the church pronounces the amen; a third reads the Old
Testament and the Gospel; a fourth preaches; and then,
if the bishop be present, he gives the blessing.
Had Hogarth required models for his picture of a “wea-
ried congregation,” I could have pointed out some invaluable
studies in the stalls at Gloucester Cathedral on Sunday,
when several old gentlemen arranged themselves into atti-
tudes of such perfect repose, that the row altogether look-
ed inimitable. They entered church as a soldier falls in-
to the ranks, going mechanically through the bodily exer-
cise of kneeling, or standing at ease; but if the word of
command could have been given for “attention,” it might
have been very desirable. I have often considered what
a curious exhibition of intellect it would be, if a whole
congregation were suddenly transfixed into their places af.
ter sermon, with sheets of paper laid before them, and
obliged, without stirring, to record their own recollections
of what had been said. In most cases it would astonish
the preacher to discover a thousand mistaken conceptions
of his meaning; doctrines perverted, texts misconceived,
and illustrations remembered, though their application had
been forgotten; while the subject itself still remained bu-
ried in a fog of ignorance and indifference which he had
been vainly endeavouring to clear away.
Our sermon this afternoon was an elegant composition,
HILL AND WALLEY, 299
but cold and unimpassioned, on a subject which, in such a
place, it seemed next to impossible should be otherwise than
affecting, and till the whole address terminated, I scarcely
believed that remarks could be continued to the end, so
tame, flat, and unprofitable, as those now applied to that
touching verse in Hebrews, “They were strangers and pil-
grims on the earth.” The numerous congregations former-
ly assembled here, and now in their graves—the princes
who lay buried at our feet—the ancient tenants of these
very stalls—the venerable prelates who successively filled
that chair, each and all seemed to lift up their voices from
the tombs around, bearing a solemn testimony that we are
indeed strangers and sojourners here. I thought of that
admirable sermon by Bourdaloue, preached on the death of
Louis XIV., so characteristic of his peculiar eloquence,
and so appropriate to my feelings at this moment. After
entering the pulpit, he gazed in perfect silence on the
monuments around, on the walls hung with black, on the
mourning congregation, and last of all fixed his eyes on the
deceased monarch’s coffin which lay before him. Then
suddenly clasping his hands and looking upwards, he ex-
claimed with solemn energy, “God alone is great.”
300 HILL AND WALLEY.
CHAPTER XXI.
“And wishing that post-horses had the wings
Of Pegasus—or, at the least, post-chaises
Had feathers, when a traveller on deep ways is.”
BYRON.
My DEAR. Cousin,_We are now restored to the com-
forts of civilized life-hot rolls, damp newspapers, easy
chairs, and noisy streets. After having so lately left the
Straits of Llanberris, which may be looked upon as a tra-
gedy of nature, we are plunged into the gayest and most
bustling of comedies, for nothing can be a greater con-
trast than the solitude of Wales to the crowded hotels of
Cheltenham. This is indeed a brilliant city; in many
places so much resembling Daniel's Views of Madras, that,
the day being hot, I began to fancy myself there, and very
nearly ordered a currie for dinner. The wide open veran-
dahs and porches want nothing but a pagoda tree to be oc-
casionally shaken, and a nabob might forget he had return-
ed home.
Cheltenham has been called the “The Castle of Indo-
lence,” and I certainly never saw such resolute idlers as
those grouped round two of the principal hotels. They
had actually brought out chairs, and sat for hours on the
porticoes and footpath, some with newspapers and some
without, but all evidently determined to see and be seen.
Most of the gentlemen here have a cautious, uncertain
tread, symptomatic of gout ; and a large proportion of the
ladies are wheeled about in flies, pushed along the foot-
path like wheelbarrows. Except in Dublin, I certainly
never entered a place where the inhabitants exhibit so uni-
versally a lounging, indolent, nothing-to-do aspect as in
HIłL AND WALLEY. 301
Cheltenham, where you might imagine they all became
rich at once, and built their villas in a day, every thing
wore such a fresh, clean, holiday aspect, and each lady
seemed in the first day of a new bonnet. By not gain-
ing admission to “The Bell,” at Gloucester, we have un-
fortunately struck off the best line of hotels, as the land-
lady at “The Spa” directed us to 's. Not knowing
any better, we followed her advice, to the great diminution
of our present comfort, but once thrown out of the right
track in any thing, it becomes very difficult to regain it.
Our best plan would be, in such a case, to ask at a second-
rate inn what house they recommend, and afterwards to
make a point of avoiding it. • .
We drove about in the city and suburbs during several
hours, learning every street by heart, and admiring the
new Villa-school of architecture, exhibited in a thousand
fantastic varieties wherever we turned. Chalybeate Cot-
tage, Rioho Villa, Pagoda Lodge, and Virginia Water,
each received their tribute of astonishment in turn ; for
certainly the power of brick, plaster, and Roman cement
can go no farther towards the sublime. We invented a few
wants, and dropt into some shops, where, as an Irishman
said, the penny pies were all two-pence, and every thing
proportionably expensive, but excellent of its kind, parti-
cularly the fruit, which is superior to any I ever saw in
London.
The Montpellier Spa, at which we stopped, looks so like
a mausoleum, that it seems ready to bury any patients who
will not be cured ; and we recollected the well-known epi-
taph in a neighbouring church-yard :—
“Here lie I, and my two daughters,
'Twas all along of the Cheltenham waters ſ”
Not feeling tempted to accuse ourselves of any com-
plaint which made it necessary to drink them, we were
26
302 HILL AND WALLEY,
amused watching the patients drinking to their own healths
with very wry faces, while a military band played Mo-
zart's operas, probably intending that invalids should swal-
low en cadence.
I am told that the waters were first discovered by flocks
of pigeons being observed to congregate round the well,
improving their appetites by a draught. It is interesting
to trace how many sciences and inventions have been
copied from nature. Architecture from the trunks and
branches of trees, painting from the reflection of landscapes
in water, music from birds, and medicine from mineral
springs.
A deceased clergyman in Caithness, preaching once in
allusion to the wells mentioned in Scripture, concluded his
sermon with these emphatic words,-‘‘ In England, my
friends ! there are the waters of Bath, Bristol, and Chel-
tenham ; and in Scotland we have the waters of Strath -
peffer and Pitcaithly, but all these waters are nothing
compared to the healing waters of Jerusalem.”
A library belongs to the Montpellier Spa, but I should
scarcely expect to find any authors there except Drs.
Abernethy, Abercromby, and Clarke. Near this temple
of health are some confectioners’ shops, so patients have
their bane and antidote both before them. At one of these
pastry-cooks, we were amused to perceive a pile of Scotch
oat-cakes, and also to detect short-bread showing its greasy
face for the honour of our country. So unexpected a
sight caused me the same feelings of patriotic pleasure ex-
perienced by the English sailor, who found, in the re-
motest parts of Africa, a bottle of Day and Martin’s black-
ing.
We called on our only acquaintance at Cheltenham, who
had most perversely gone out ; and therefore, not to be de-
prived of society in so crowded a place, I proposed to
A that, by Way of experiment, we should return to the
HILL AND WALLEY. 303
hotel in time to dine at the ordinary, of which our land-
lady had given a most attractive description. According-
ly, after making the best of a traveller's toilette, we pro-
ceeded, full of expectation, in great state to the dining-
room. I recalled to mind by the way, many brilliant de-
scriptions we had read or heard of a table d’hôte abroad,
and thought also of the amusing scenes which frequently
take place at Harrogate, hoping now to realize in some
degree what had so often been imagined. The door flew
open, we entered, and found—such a failure | Two old
gentlemen belonging to the last century, with a lady ap-
parently of similar date, who seemed habitués of the house,
were seated at dinner, all prodigious eaters, and not much
given to conversation ; as every word spoken they ad-
dressed to “ Thomas,” the waiter. This unfortunate man
was scolded at last into such a state of hurry and confu-
sion, that he scarcely knew the difference between beef
and mustard, seldom by accident carried a plate to the
right person, and hastened in all directions without ap-
parently any definite object. Certainly I never saw any
one equally anxious to please, with so little success. He
ought to have been one of the Campbells, always “com-
ing,” for that one reply rose high above the hurricane, be-
ing perpetually repeated in a tone of alacrity, though the
action seldom suited the word. I did not dare to exchange
a glance with A , or we must inevitably have laughed
at this forlorn attempt on our parts to be gay !
It reminded me of Evelina at the boarding-house. Cer-
tainly the carver had not graduated at Vauxhall; and if
an American traveller ever wishes to revenge himself for
some of Mrs. Troliope's best chapters, he should dine at
this hotel, and adopt a scene at the ordinary as a fair spe-
cimen of fashionable usages in Great Britain. A standing
rule exists here, that every guest shall drink the King’s
health after dinner, probably to ensure their all taking
304 * HILL AND WALLEY,
wine, but no other toast is permitted to follow on any pre-
text, in order to discourage the introduction of political
discussions. When the cloth was removed, an old clergy-
man returned thanks in rather a thankless tone ; the presi-
dent looked loyal, and proposed “His Majesty,” and the
old lady vehemently insisted on our breaking through the
regulations, to fill another glass in honour of “Queen Ade-
laide.” A few mournful attempts at jocularity followed ;
the old people were very severe on each other for not be-
ing married ; the ordinary set of jests on such occasions
were duly remembered and impromptued ; the reverend
gentleman produced several veteran bon mots from the store-
houses of memory, relating to his own professional duty in
marrying others; the usual “laughing chorus ” followed,
and we soon afterwards dispersed.
Cheltenham is one of the few places in this country
where card-playing continues, not merely as an occasional
relaxation, but a constant business to ladies, and where
old people may be seen “going to the grave with a pack
of cards in their hands.” At most houses now, the great
Mogul’s reign is over. Old dowagers would as soon think of
dancing a minuet as of sitting down to whist; and north of
the Tweed, we never see an “odd trick,” seldom turn up
trumps, and scarcely know the difference between a King
and a Queen. There are many other ways in which time
may be wasted and talents misapplied, but this tax upon both
seems nearly obsolete; and though many may find occasion
to lament “a youth of folly,” none are likely now to close
the scene with “an old age of cards.” Sidney Smith once
prophesied that as this reformation increases, parties of old
gentlemen will retire into a desert and play at whist, while
sentinels keep watch in all directions to give timely warn-
ing when a troop of dragoons is advancing to disperse
them.
On Tuesday morning, we drove in a horse fly to visit
HILL AND WATLLEY - 305
Pitville in the suburbs of Cheltenham, a scene of gorgeous
magnificence. Here a large estate has been divided into
public gardens, and sprinkled with houses of every size,
shape, and character;-Grecian temples, Italian villas, and
citizen's boxes, so fresh and clean, you would imagine they
were all blown out at once like soap-bubbles. A wealthy
Mr. Pitt, who possessed a million of money, and did not
think himself rich enough, built all those beautiful residen-
ces as a speculation ; but the scheme failed, and he might
have said, like Francis I., “all was lost but his honour.”
The place, however, seems fully occupied now. It certainly
is remarkable, that wherever houses rise, inhabitants in-
stantly appear! If a city were built in the most uninha-
bited part of Salisbury plain to-morrow, not a lodging
would be vacant the year after. No traveller ever saw a
street totally empty, and only in poetry do you read of a
“Deserted Village.” At Pitville we were shown an elegant
cottage ornée, built by Mr. Scott on so large a scale, that
he was ruined and never could afford to live there. Truly
does the old proverb say, “fools build houses and wise men
inhabit them ;” for too many overlook the advice of Scrip-
ture, to “count the cost” before they begin ; and the fas-
cinations of the mortar tub are so irresistible to those who
have once plunged into it, that on most occasions, where
an income is limited, proprietors should confine their archi-
tectural propensities to chateaua en Espagne.
Many small lodging houses in London and elsewhere
exhibit a notice in their windows to this effect, “Lodgers
taken in here, and done for.” This promise or threat had
not been held out to us at —'s hotel ; but it was
nevertheless most thoroughly executed, as you never en-
countered a more complete case of pillage. Our landlady
sent a waiter up with the bill, being evidently ashamed to
produce herself with it, and the whole appeared so singular
a specimen of extortion, that it should be preserved in vine.
26%
306 - HILL AND WALLEYe
gar as a natural curiosity. You laughed once at our friend,
who always when travelling, desired the landlord to “put
the chaise and horses into the bill;” but ours might almost
contain them, it was on so extensive a scale. We seemed
never to have rung the bell under five shillings, and our
I’OOIſlS might be illuminated during a month for the price
of wax-lights, which in these short evenings were scarcely
used. The landlady ought to keep a pair of horses on the
profit she draws from one pair of candles It would have
been almost fair in this house to imitate a certain well-
known lady, who packs up every evening the wax-lights in
her dressing-room where she visits, occasioning great per-
plexity to the wondering housemaids; who, on one occa-
sion when she was departing, privately laid her imperial
on a hot plate in the kitchen, till the contents were melted,
and her dresses thus reduced to a paste.
The continental plan will at last be adopted in this coun-
try, of making a previous agreement at hotels, though it is
not very consonant to our ideas of comfort being fed by
contract. An old lady, not understanding the convenient
system of boarding en pension abroad, lately read a letter
from her son, then travelling on the Continent, and ex-
claimed, with a look of great delight, “I can’t tell what
Tom has done to deserve it, but he is now living on a pen-
sion at Naples —probably the king has taken a fancy to
him, he is a very fine lad!”
Lady C used to say, that in travelling she
“strewed the road with gold !” a custom which must have
made her very popular, as ordinary personages are satisfied
with grinding two shillings a mile under their carriage
wheels; and she would never have gained the prize which
old Mr. used annually to bestow on one of his sons,
during the holidays, when they were all sent off in different
directions with a certain allowance, and whoever travelled
EIILL AND WALLEY. 30 7
farthest, and staid longest away from home on the sum spe-
cified, received the highest reward.
An amusing story is told of a traveller who encountered
a remarkably scanty dinner at Cheltenham, for which he
was charged enormously, when he threatened that the land-
lord should have cause to remember this extortion as long
as he lived. Accordingly, wherever the gentleman wan-
dered over the habitable globe, he invariably disguised his
hand-writing, and directed a double letter to the hotel.
The contents were always one single sentence, “I shall
never forget that excellent dinner you gave me on the 28th
of August.” The unfortunate landlord was at last nearly
ruined, and even from China this pertinacious correspon-
dent contrived to forward his usual epistle. Certainly in
our case a few penny-post letters might have been well be.
stowed on our own very exorbitant landlady. | -
, Next morning we swept through the Vale of Evesham,
where a beautiful tract of country appeared laid out before
us, on that very gentle slope in which a splendid piece of
silk is held up at Howel and James's for admiration. If
any one could live upon scenery, here was a place in which
to try the experiment, and we raised up a host of suitable
recollections in passing the battle field of Evesham, guess-
ing the exact spot where Prince Edward triumphed by his
own skilful manoeuvres, where the ambitious and ungrate-
ful Leicester died, after vainly asking for mercy, and where
Henry III., weak and vacillating, came as a prisoner, and
was liberated by his son.
While the kettle was boiling for breakfast, we made a
hasty flight to lionize the ancient church and monastery of
Evesham, which amply repaid our enterprise. Three very
handsome towers are still standing, the most ruinous of
which the architects are whimsically enough repairing, to
form part of a new church, while the strongest tower stands
in majestic grandeur, alone and neglected.
308 EIILL AND WALLEY.
CHAPTER XXII.
Who wrote Shakspeare ?
Ben Johnson to be sure
My DEAR Cousin,_In reading any published corre-
spondence, it is diverting, or perhaps I should rather say
disgusting, to see the tone of adulation and flattery with
which, on full-dress occasions, friends compliment each
other. Really the speeches at a public dinner are tame
and moderate in colouring compared with the eulogiums
apparently passing every day through the post-office, if all
those epistles which go to the press ever travelled in the
mail. Praise is quite a drug now in the literary market,
but were it not like holding up a taper to the sun, I might
out-do all that Mrs. Hannah More says to Mrs. Montagu,
or Bishop Porteus to Mrs. Hannah More, or Mrs. Any-
body-else to Miss Such-a-one, or even to Miss
Seward, without exaggerating the praises justly due to my
talented and accomplished friend, whose relationship and
correspondence are the chief happiness and the greatest
honour enjoyed by one, in all other respects so insignificant
as your sincere admirer, for who can be otherwise, and
your affectionate cousin, which is the proudest title that
can be claimed by Now here should follow my
signature, and the letter would be quite ready for public
approbation; but I did not intend coming to so untimely an
end. You must return me an answer in kind, with not
merely a volume, but an encyclopædia of compliments, and
pray let us keep up the shuttle-cock till we are both in the
best humour with ourselves and each other, though I beg
at once to decline editing any volumes of your poems, let.
ters, or posthumous memoirs.
HILL AND VALLEY, 309
Meantime A– and I prepared a fine burst of enthusiasm
when approaching Stratford-on-Avon, where an hour was
most interestingly passed in wandering from Shakspeare's
birth-place, a butcher’s shop, to his tomb. This was not
long to bestow on the whole existence of our illustrious poet,
to whom we are indebted for so much entertainment and
instruction ; but, though no author fills up so large a space
in the public eye, yet as an individual, little of his private
life is known. Originally a butcher, killing his own mut-
ton before he murdered kings, then a poacher, and last an
actor, the three professions least respected in society, his
fame is nevertheless pre-eminent now above monarchs,
many of whom owe much of their celebrity to his genius ;
and Queen Elizabeth herself, “in maiden majesty sublime,”
derives additional lustre from his pen, which handed all
contemporaries down to future honour or ridicule, accor-
ding to his own inclination. That worthy old country
gentleman, Sir Thomas Lucy, has acquired inuch iudicrous
celebrity, and undergone the bastinado during more than
two centuries, in consequence of his rencontre with the
bard of Avon, who might perhaps never have become a bard
at all but for the trial and consequent embarrassments which
drove him to the stage, and piqued him into writing “Jus-
tice Shallow.”
As a fire never blazes up thoroughly unless well beaten
and violently stirred; so great genius would often smoulder
indolently away were it not for a few well applied strokes.
The Irish orator Curran completely stuck in all his attempts
at public speaking, till accidentally irritated beyond all
bounds, he started up in a rage, and made so splendid an
appearance, that ever afterwards he felt perfect confidence
in his own powers.
Shakspeare found, by sad experience, how truly this world
is “our school, our theatre, our prison, and our grave.”
Most of the applause occasioned by his brilliant appearance
310 HILL AND VALLEY.
on the stage of life came after his exit. If he could have
been called back, as performers are at a concert, to receive
reiterated plaudits, his own success would have astonished
him. The birth-place of Sir Isaac Newton at Coltersworth
is scarcely known or noticed; but the ornamental, being
generally preferred to the useful in literature, pilgrims flock
from every quarter, doing homage to the bard of Avon's
memory. One of these enthusiasts stole a pen which be-
longed to the bust of Shakspeare, a most unaccountable
theft, as it never could be shewn, and the perpetrator cer-
tainly endured what Dr. Johnson declares to be the most
unpleasant of all sensations, the “consciousness of a crime
committed in vain.”
The small obscure room where Shakspeare first saw the
light has its walls entirely written over with the names of
those who would willingly hand themselves down to poste-
rity in the poet's train; and collectors of autographs might
wear out a pair of eyes in decyphering signatures. All
clever men are said to write bad hands; but some of those
we looked at were quite deserving of a place in Mrs. ’s
collection of illegible franks. Amongst the worst were, if
we did make them out correctly, Sir Walter Scott, Wash.
ington Irving, Mrs. Hemans, Lord Byron, and Schiller,-
the last of whom seems the only modern dramatist to be
compared with Shakspeare. We were amused to hear that
an enthusiastic Mr. Jones from America lately caused a
mattress to be prepared here, on which he slept all night,
in hopes of catching a little inspiration. It would have
been awkward if the poet’s turn for deer-stealing had taken
possession of this transatlantic adventurer rather than the
poetic fire, and if, instead of mounting the summit of Par-
nassus, he had been caught wandering in the preserves at
Charlecote Hall. Lord Byron likewise passed a night in
this illustrious little den, after which we may suppose he
wrote his “Doge of Venice,” to match Shakspeare’s “Mer-
HILL AND WALLEY. 311
chant of Venice,” though the difference is like that between
a horse chesnut and a chesnut horse. If the receipt for
catching inspiration were infallible, how gladly I should
have staid a night there, and emerged a perfect Joanna
Baillie. One female poetess records in the volume of sig-
natures a very modest request, though probably, as we ne-
ver heard of her before, the blind goddess did not become so
propitious as was expected.
“Kind fortune grant, that in the lists of fame,
As Shakspeare I may one day rank my name !”
Washington Irving had honoured the bard with a tribu-
tary stanza, containing what may be termed a conceit
quite in the old school :-
“Of mighty Shakspeare's birth the room we see,
That where he died in vain to find we try.
‘Useless the search; for all immortal he
And those who are immortal never die l’”
Whether Shakspeare died or not, may remain as proble-
matical as any poet chooses to consider it ; but he seems
certainly to have been buried, and over his grave is placed
a stone, with these very singular lines engraved, according
to his own directions :—
Good Friend For Jesus' Sake Forbeare,
To Digg the Dust Enclosed Heare;
Bless'd be ye man yt Spares Thes Stones,
And Curst be Heyt Moves My Bones.
That last vigorous line partakes more of the poacher
than the poet; and it is sad to perceive all care concen-
trated on the mortal body, while not one syllable appears
relating to that better part, the undying soul, which was
gifted with all the talents that raised him so far above
other men. This pithy epitaph has saved Shakspeare,
however, the trouble of a journey to Poets’ Corner, West-
312 HILL AND WALLEY.
minster Abbey, followed by a grand commemoration in
London, where Mozart's requiem would have been per-
formed, and his memory afterwards pledged in solemn si-
lence by all the poets, actors, and would-be-geniuses of the
day, a ceremony which we ourselves observed afterwards
with due honour over a glass of perry at the inn.
Like most very celebrated men, Shakspeare has no living
descendants to represent him in the world. His son died
at twelve years old, and the inscription on his daughter,
Mrs. Harte's tomb, has been obliterated to make way for
some other person’s name, a most unfair usurpation.
Shakspeare's last appearance in the world is reported to
have been when Lord Prudhoe lately visited a magician
in Egypt, and asked the conjuror, amongst many others,
to summon the poet. We are told, that after the usual
mysterious ceremonies, a boy exclaimed that he saw “a
Frank with a long peaked beard,” in all respects answering
the most accurate descriptions of Shakspeare. Certainly
if half what we hear from credible travellers be true, ma-
gicians are living in Egypt now, well fitted to represent
those who practised sorcery in the time of Moses.
When tourists have acquired a little experience on the
road, it is surprising how compact a form their baggage
finally acquires; for those who carry a multitude of cloaks,
bags, boxes, parcels, and parasols, might generally be traced
at the inns by what they drop. During our progress from
Stratford-on-Avon, we lost several fine estates and villages
in searching for a stray dressing-box, discovered at last in
the sword-case, after which we obtained leisure to admire
and observe so accurately, that not a grain of dust could
get past without exciting a remark.
Leamington, famous for its doctor, has obtained the
sobriquet of Nova Scotia, from the concourse of Scotch
patients who flock there, until the hotels become perfect
infirmaries, for persons with every sort of imaginable or
EIILL AND WALLEYs 313
unimaginable complaint. Sir Roger de Coverley’s friend
was only civil to his acquaintances in proportion as they
seemed in good health, and likely to remain-long in the
world ; but individuals here rank in Dr. Jephson’s estima-
tion, not according as they are great men, but great inva-
lids, and some of his cures have been so surprising, that he
actually mends an impaired constitution, and makes it as
good as new again. The only complaint he pronounces
incurable, is a love of eating to excess; but where that vice
becomes indulged, the doctor will not risk his credit, by
continuing even to prescribe. Health must be earned by
self-denial and exertion; but those who will not purchase
it at that price must do without.
In society you would fancy that visitors to Leamington
left every idea at the last turnpike, except those relating
to medicine, and picked them all up again on their return.
Wherever two persons are seen in animated conversation,
Dr. Jephson is of course the subject; and it would be
quite as unsafe to dispute his infallibility here as that of the
pope at Rome. Certainly no one acquires so unbounded an
influence over the medical consciences of his patients,
indeed he exacts the abstinence of dervises from those he
attends, who may be known in any company by a sort of
one-slice-of-under-dome-mutton-ish look, and by their steady
refusal of every thing ornamental at dinner, where all pre-
faces and appendixes are curtailed by special command,
and the side-dishes might be modelled in marble or wax,
without any enterprising epicure daring to investigate the
strata and formation of a fricandeau, or the mean tempe-
rature of a vol au vent. It is related, that when a great
gourmand once objected to refraining from soups and fri.
candeaua because he found it “so difficult to resist them,”
the Dr. losing all patience, dryly remarked, “You will find
it still more difficult to get out of your coffin.”
It is astonishing to see a few daring confectioners at-
27
314 HILL AND VALLEY.,
tempting still to keep their shops open, as the word “pas.
try” is said to be utterly unknown in Leamington, where
any lady would faint, like the princess in the Arabian
Nights, if she beheld the celebrated cream tarts, which
you have always expressed so great a curiosity to
taste. The fishmongers in Leamington lately offered Dr.
Jephson £200 a year if he would allow his patients to eat
salmon and turbot ; but the bait did not succeed, for
Salmon and turbot still continue to die in vain. As for
fruit, invalids are scarcely even allowed to smell the
flavour; though I was surprised to perceive an extensive
garden belonging to the Doctor himself, filled with every
species of poisonous productions,—such as peas, onions,
sallads, apples, pears, apricots, and peaches what were
they all intended for 7 not, of course, to be eaten I have
heard, that at Carlsbad every inn is under the authority of
a physician, so nothing pernicious can be got for any
price ; but at Copp's Royal hotel, the waiter, a personage
of some humour, gave us a look of commiseration when
he saw the tart going away untouched, and paused with it
in his hand for some moments, as if desirous to replace the
dish, saying confidentially, in an under-tone, “We some-
times cheat the Doctor, sir!” At Hayti, an arbitrary and
amusing regulation was formerly made by the emperor
Christophe, that invalids, when convicted of indisposition,
were all to be deprived of their liberty, and taken to a
public hospital, where, without distinction of rank, the
Dukes of Marmalade and Lemonade must conform, like
the poorest subject, to whatever regulations were most sa-
lutary, taking as much exercise and as little sleep, +as
much medicine and as little pastry, as the Doctor
ordered, till they were convalescent ; but no such re-
straints are necessary at Leamington, where patients wil-
lingly submit to a despotic government, to tyranny
exerted, not in putting them to death, but in restoring
HILL AND WALLEY. 315
them to life. The awe in which this ruler is held, would
astonish any one not under his immediate sway; but his
manner is characterized by a sort of peremptory good
humour, and he generally enforces a willing obedience.
One lady about to consult him, for the first time, told me
that she felt like a criminal going to be tried at the
assizes, and that the first time they met, his appearance
was particularly striking and effective. He seldom al-
lows time for the ordinary form of being announced into
a sitting-room ; and when she looked up from her work,
Dr. Jephson was standing in the centre of the room, as if
he had come up through a trap door. Nothing can exceed
the benevolence of this very skilful physician. Though no
consideration will induce him to attend wealthy patients
after they are found guilty of being merely hypochondriacal,
yet wherever sickness really is, the poorer invalids may be,
the more unremitting seems his attention. Every fee
which he gains on Sunday is distributed among his indi-
gent patients, and it may be hoped he experiences now, as
he must do hereafter, the truth of that saying, “it is more
blessed to give than to receive.” Any one might feel rich
with an income equal to the harvest his hand reaps in a
single day, as probably none of Dr. Jephson’s patients
ever make the blunder your friend did, who slipped a bar-
ley-sugar drop into her physician’s hand, by mistake for
a sovereign. * ^:
On one occasion, Dr. Jephson showed an example of
real generosity, which ought to be followed by all physi-
cians and clergymen similarly circumstanced, though the
result held out little encouragement to those who act from
mere love of approbation, or any motive short of religious
principle. An old lady having bequeathed him her whole
estate, he instantly transferred it to the nearest relations,
who never even answered the letter in which his intention
was announced, but merely remarked, that “Dr. Jephson
316 HILL AND WALLEY.
could not have done less, as the property ought to be theirs
by right !” *
No strangers would believe, unless they take the trouble
to go and see for themselves, what a disgusting state of
filth and stagnation the river Leame is in at Leamington.
I wish Dr. Jephson would prescribe for it. It exhibits
symptoms of disorder most decided and dangerous, the
whole face of the stream being discoloured,—the circulation
nearly stopped,—the consistence like train oil,-and the
effluvia not to be conceived. The Leame flows through,
or rather, stands still in, -the public gardens, and no one
ever approaches it a second time, though strangers like
ourselves endure ten minutes torment on the banks in lion-
izing the shady walks for the first time, and then send it to
Coventry ever afterwards. I am almost surprised that
Lord Eastnor does not roof in that part of the stream
which disfigures his garden. Certainly, among all our
senses, that of smell could best be spared ; but at no place
will vinagrettes and salvolatile be more highly appreciated
than at Leamington, where it is singular that in almost
every window flowers are to be seen, and even the poorest
huts exhibit a row of geraniums—d propos des bottes—if
any one wishes to build a picturesque cottage, it seems an
infallible receipt, throughout several parts of England, to
take as many gable-ends as can be got, place them miscel-
laneously, looking towards every point of the compass, and
surmount them with abundance of tall chimneys, after which
the business is successfully accomplished. At Leamington,
as well as at Cheltenham, the villas exhibit in their archi-
tecture some very amusing specimens of the florid-Gothic-
Elizabethan-Doric school, with Corinthian porticoes and
cottage windows. The villages in that neighbourhood are
particularly beautiful.
We took a walk one day towards the churchyard at
Leamington. Even in Dr. Jephson's neighbourhood a
HILL AND WALLEY. 317
burying-ground is occasionally used, and here we paused
some time to consider an epitaph, certainly dictated by
strong feeling, and yet the sentiment seemed rather too
consequential. Over an infant of nine months old was
this inscription :--
“Earth mourns, but heaven rejoices.”
In talking over Leamington, the leading question is
whether you visited Warwick Castle, Guy’s Cliff, Stone-
leigh, and Kenilworth ? Whichever has been omitted, you
may depend upon being assured that it was better worth
seeing than all the others united, therefore we resolved to be
unimpeachably diligent, and began with Sir Walter Scott's
favourite, the hoary towers of Kenilworth, picturesquely
covered, as Mrs. Malaprop says, “with ivory.” One great
loss in reading a good historical fiction is, that it really
does confuse our recollection of facts. Even clergymen in
their sermons occasionally quote the language and events
of Paradise Lost, as if these were scriptural ; and here Amy
Robsart became more fully present to our thoughts, and
more an object of our sympathy, than the vain and cruel
dueen, called, par excellence, “good Queen Bess.” We
owe her majesty a grudge, on account of Mary Stuart's
unhappy fate ; and certainly to judge by her tawdry, over-
dressed pictures, if the royal prerogative had extended to
beheading all who looked better than herself, scarcely a
single female in the British dominions would have remain.
ed alive. Queen Elizabeth, who knew little of painting,
desired that her portrait should always be drawn “in an
open garden-light, without shadows P’ but few likenesses
remain, as several, not flatteringly enough painted, were,
by her own orders, collected and destroyed.
It would be a useless waste of ink to describe the lordly
castle of Kenilworth, when every fragment has been en-
graved on our recollection by the pen of Sir Walter Scott ;
27%
318 HILL AND WALLEYs
from whose well-remembered novel we quoted a few passa-
ges which may be found at your leisure in the volume. We
then plucked several ivy leaves, as relics, talked of Ed-
ward II. who was imprisoned here, -lamented Prince
Henry’s untimely fate, the last royal personage to whom
it belonged,—called to mind that silk dresses were first
worn at the splendid fêtes in Kenilworth, and looked
around on what was “once ambition’s fairy hall,” now
only tenanted by troops of bare-headed children, the most
persevering little beggars that ever were seen out of Ire-
regal state,
And sprightly mirth, beneath the festive roof
Are now no more.
Next day was devoted to Warwick Castle, the Versailles
of this neighbourhood, with its beautifully preserved plea-
sure grounds, its splendid gardens, its noble situation, and
its august towers rising so directly out of the river Avon,
that the Castle seems to stand there in perpetual contem-
plation of its own beauties reflected in the crystal mirror
beneath. Nature certainly puts on her full dress here !
As old Mrs. said, in a moment of rural enthusiasm,
“the birds looked beautiful with their follage, and the trees
with their plummage.” No symptoms of decay or old age
appear in the inhabited part of this ancient building, which
is certainly a perfect Ninon de l'Enclos among castles, in
respect to preserving all its freshness in advanced years.
What multitudes of distinguished persons have been born,
grown old, and died here ! And with what heart-stirring
emotion the representative of an old historical family must
sometimes stand in his ancestral halls, feeling himself a link
between past and future generations, while he traces back
the long line of belted knights and gartered nobles who
preceded himself in the paths of honour and fame, now
HILL AND WALLEYs 319
gathered to their fathers as he shall hereafter be to his ;
and whose only memorial in the house they once com-
manded, is a silent portrait on the wall. The late eccen-
tric Lord Buchan identified himself so completely with
his predecessors, that he always spoke of their actions as
if actually his own; and a stranger not aware of this habit
was amazed once, though his Lordship did at that time
look extremely old, to hear him say, at a dinner table, “I
remonstrated strongly before it took place, against the exe-
cution of Charles I. P. -
It often excites my wonder that men of ancient descent
ever join in the popular clamour against entails, for what-
ever inconvenience they may occasion now, but for their
influence, those very proprietors would never probably
have inherited an acre themselves; but persons of exten-
sive property and distinguished family, who join the popu-
lar clamour for innovation, seem really to act as unac-
countably as if they united with a band of desperadoes in
committing a burglary on their own houses.
At Warwick Castle trees are shown as old as the family
pedigree, and one magnificent cedar had been preserved by
all the Lord Warwicks in succession, since it travelled
down from London in the pocket of a former proprietor.
Another came in a letter from America | Neither the
Duke of Richmond's franks, nor even Lady 's pockets,
could contain those aged patriarchs now. Sir John Carr
mentions a friend who lived at some distance from Lon-
don, and who got the bricks for building his house sent to
him in parcels by the mail coach ! he should certainly
have adopted this method also for importing his forests.
The great Warwick vase, sent in a present from Greece
by Sir William Hamilton, is a most gigantic specimen of
ancient art, which we admired much, though greatly per-
plexed to conjecture for what purpose the Emperor Adrian
had originally intended it. I was amused to see with
320 HELL AND WAT,LEY.
what patronizing gravity the gardener explained that “it
would not be in good taste,” when we suggested the expe-
diency of making this classical urn useful and proposed
that a prodigious geranium, which flourished close by,
should be transplanted there. -
As all Dr. Jephson’s patients, including half the world,
go to see Warwick Castle, I might as well describe the
Tower of London, with which it is nearly co-eval. The
walls are perfectly bomb-proof, being nine feet thick, and
the entrance-hall is like a chapel, displaying a richly carv-
ed oak roof, and truly magnificent proportions. How
much we missed on this occasion the renowned old house-
keeper, who realised a large fortune, which she afterwards
bequeathed to the family, by her pre-eminent success as a
cicerone. Her genealogical memory was so splendid, that
she could recount all the alliances the family ever had
made, or ever were to make ; and she spoke of Paul Vero-
nese, Salvator Rosa, Nicholas Poussin and Giulio Romano,
with the same friendly familiarity of tone as that in which
small gentry mention great acquaintances, of whom they
know little more than the names. A stranger always be-
comes confused, like a pointer in a rabbit warren, when
there are many pictures to admire ; but we skaited along
on the slippery floors at the rate of not more than three miles
an hour, casting a momentary glance at paintings, any one
of which it might agreeably occupy an hour to examine
and appreciate sufficiently. I did not spare the fraction
of a moment to observe the lapis lazuli, pietra dura, and
scagliola tables, ebony cabinets, china ornaments, and
other unnecessary necessaries of life with which these
magnificent rooms are encumbered. Even Queen Anne's
very uncomfortable bed scarcely attracted any notice, as
every instant seemed lost not devoted to improving our ac-
quaintance with Titian, Rubens, and a room-full of genuine
Vandykes. The Wan-daubs are less prevalent here than
EIILL AND WALLEY, 321
in most great collections. A month's solitary imprison-
ment at Warwick Castle would be no penance, as it be-
comes necessary to live in the house with pictures before
you can fully appreciate or enjoy them. We seemed lost
amidst a bewildering maze of frowning kings, laughing
cherubs, grim warriors, flowing wigs, broad hoops, invisi-
ble waists, glittering armour, and marble busts. One por-
trait of a Lord Arundel by Rubens looked so much alive,
that you might have spoken to him ; and I wore out the
new housekeeper's patience by returning to renew my re-
collection of so magnificent a painting, the noble expres-
sion and commanding features of which were very strik-
ing. I could not but think how grand and impressive those
knights and nobles must have looked in former days, strid-
ing about this superb hall, and calling the wide domain
their own ; “pride in his port, defiance in his eye ;” their
very look a law to all around. This Earl of Arundel shall
in future be my personification of a feudal lord ; and how
comparatively insignificant would a modern portrait ap-
pear, dressed in Stult’s best, with an embroidered waist-
coat, a favourite curl, and a turquoise ring ! The Duke
of Norfolk, beheaded by Queen Elizabeth for wishing to
marry Queen Mary, was the father of this Lord Arundel,
who being also imprisoned during many years in the
Tower, expired there at an early period.
We should never imagine these ancient heroes dying of
old age, or surviving till they became corpulent, infirm,
bald, or gouty; but evidently, after existing twenty or
thirty years in a whirlwind of violence and strife, they al-
ways exploded out of the world at last, like one of Shrapnel's
shells. The king-making Earl of Warwick, a hero of the
old school, cut out exactly on this pattern, seems to have
breathed fire and gunpowder all his life; and a portrait
which hangs here realizes the impression conveyed by his-
tory. A spirited likeness is also shewn of the Dutch ad-
322 HîLL AND WALLEY,
miral, Van Tromp, who boasted that he could sweep the
ocean free from British ships, in memory of which intention
he is represented carrying a broom, though he might as
well have undertaken to ride his broomstick in the air. An
amusing anecdote is related of Admiral Van Tromp's singu-
lar coolness and resolution. Having been challenged to
fight a duel, he led the officer who wished for satisfaction
up to some barrels of gunpowder, seated himself on one be-
side his antagonist, and then presented a burning match to
him, saying, “As you were the challenger, fire ſ” The of.
fended party hastily vacated his seat, and peace instantly
followed. This way of adjusting a difference was somewhat
upon the plan adopted by Frederick the Great, who promul-
gated a law that duellists must continue to fight till one was
killed, and then he hanged the other, thus exterminating a
very pernicious race. -
Rubens is supposed to have covered more canvas than
any artist who ever held a brush, as he worked with mar-
Vellous rapidity. One of his sketches, reckoned quite su-
perlative, represents two venerable old heads reading; ano-
ther is a beautiful portrait of Anna Bullen ; and we also
admired exceedingly one of his innumerable wives. At
every gallery of pictures I wonder anew how often Rubens
was married? In all great collections we also see some laugh-
ing boys by Murillo, who certainly left a numerous family
of them, and invariably their expression is so full of mis-
chievous enjoyment, that a schoolmaster would at once pro-
duce his rod. As a contrast to the one here, is a portrait
of Lord Strafford, which seemed actually thinking, it bore
such an expression of sublime melanchoky, suited to his tra.
gical end. We contemplated this portrait with the more
sympathy, as that unfortunate statesman was a great-grand-
cousin-german of our own ; and even strangers not so nearly
related must lament that his generous loyalty did not reap
a better requital. As old Mr. — says, “there are not
HILL AND WALLEY, 323
many friends that we may venture to ride the water on ;”
and it was the darkest spot in a character on all other oc-
casions so heroic, when King Charles, after writing an elo-
quent letter to parliament, begging the life of his noble cham-
pion, added that miserable postscript which spoiled the
whole, “If he must die, let him at least be spared till Wednes-
day !” What a number of unaccountable things great
men do
A full-length picture is exhibited here, representing in
favourable colours the vain and frivolous Anne of Denmark;
also a superb likeness of the unfortunate Lord Essex; and
a half-length portrait of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu's ex-
traordinary son, l’homme comme il y en a peu, who affected
eccentricity from the hour when he eloped from school and
became a chimney sweeper, till he took his seat in Parlia-
ment—travelled through every country, adopting the reli-
gion, like the dress of all nations—sat for this picture in his
Turkish costume—and died certainly as strange a man as
he had lived. It may be said of him, without regret, that
we “ne'er shall look upon his like again.”
The gem of this whole collection is the Vandyck portrait
of Charles I. on horseback,--a perfect tableau vivant.
When picture-gazers wish to make an ostentatious display
of science, their connoisseur-ships generally begin, as a pre-
liminary step, with rolling up sheets of paper, like tele-
scopes, and staring through them, dropping, in the mean-
time, a rapid shower of exclamations and criticisms; but to
save the trouble of this arrangement, and produce a similar
effect, king Charles is placed at the extreme end of a very
long narrow passage, where we may measure our distance
of twelve paces for taking a good coup d'aºil. If a station be
judiciously chosen, the dark back-ground melts entirely
away, and the king's figure attains the roundness and pro-
minence of a statue. I never observed a picture shewn off
with more effect, or that better merited so advantageous a
324 HILL AND WALLEY,
position. Standing thus completely isolated, the king's
figure exhibits an air of chivalrous grace and regal dignity,
while the noble charger wears a mournful expression, as if
it were carrying the royal martyr to execution:—
A better cavalier ne'er mounted horse,
Or, being mounted, e'er got down again.
} 5 } S
Vandyck’s pictures display a degree of life beyond those
of any other painter, as a proof of which it may be men-
tioned, that formerly, when gentlemen wore the skirt of
their coats stiffened with buckram, the late Lady —, a
prodigious economist, always sent her husband’s tailor to
a garret, with leave to cut up the old family pictures, thus
ingeniously saving the expense of new linings. At last
only one remained, representing an old gentleman in black,
on whom the worthy clothier positively refused to exercise
his scissors, observing, “ The auld man aye looks sae
sweared at me, that I canna hae the heart to destroy him.”
The streets of Warwick are so silent and deserted, that
it looks like a city of the plague; but we found here one
of the best and most expensive curiosity-shops I ever en-
tered, full of antiquities and ancient bijouterie, fossil
remains of old fashions long since extinct, which might
puzzle a modern philosopher to invent uses for, though
their multitude and variety could not be excelled by any
collection in London. Mr. Redfern goes to the Continent
every year for a relay of old china, carved oak, original
pictures, ivory figures, ancient missals, and all those odds
and ends which wealthy persons are apt to fancy when
time and money hang heavy on hand. You would posi-
tively have tied a handkerchief over your eyes, to avoid
being tempted into buying up the whole shop. Many mo.
dern drawing-rooms are like this warehouse, so filled with
clocks never wound up, inkstands unsullied with ink,
work-boxes preserved under glass, and cabinets meant to
EIILL AND WALLEY, 325
contain nothing, that I am apt to forget we are not in a
toy-shop, and to look for the prices marked upon them all.
A perfect fortune could soon be squandered here upon little
antiques, that might be packed into your reticule; and
as Dr. Franklin wisely said, “every thing is dear that you
do not want.” Though the shop was crowded with visitors,
not one of whom the owner seemed to recognize by name,
he allowed every stranger to ramble at large over the whole
extent of his shop, apparently as much pleased with those
who admired, as with those who purchased.
At Rundell and Bridges’s, many invisible eyes are fas-
tened on every chance customer who enters; but here vi.
sitors seem almost treated as in the Swiss valleys, where
articles are exposed for sale with prices marked, and no
one attends to receive the amount. It often becomes a
serious inconvenience when employing a Swiss maid, that
they object so much to the use of a lock and key, being
accustomed at home to bestow universal confidence, like
Mr. Redfern at Warwick, who only once showed a slight
degree of misgiving when a remarkably plain, ordinary-
looking personage, was prying very curiously into some of
the cabinets, and he asked me aside if that stranger belong-
ed to our party. -
The most gorgeous collection of tombs I ever beheld are
assembled in the chapel at Warwick. There Queen Eliza-
beth’s Lord Leicester lies, under a canopy of gold, and of
variously coloured marble, which rises fifteen feet high,
with his crest mounted on the summit, and beneath a full-
length effigy of himself is laid out, beside that of his count.
ess, over whom weread a quaint old epitaph. The following
characteristic specimen will entertain you :—
She that in her youth had been
Darling to the maiden queen,
Till she was content to quit
Her favour for her favourite.
*s 28
326 HILL AND WALLEY.
Not far off lies the founder of this chapel, Lord Warwick,
in a tomb which cost, even in those days, no less than
£1200. His statue is clad in guilt armour, one foot rest-
ing on a muzzled bear, the other on a griffin, the whole
covered by a trellis-work of gilding, like a bird-cage, and
round the sarcophagus are fourteen bronze figures, repre-
senting all his nearest relations. This was that celebrated
Lord Warwick of whom the Emperor Sigismond said, “If
courtesy itself should die, it must revive in him.” He be-
came tutor to the son of Henry V. which proves that his
talents and character were highly estimated. He was a
distinguished warrior, also, and to his custody was com-
mitted “the heart of St. George,” when Sigismond sent
what was called so, in a casket to the English monarch.
His son was the famous Lord Warwick, who made and
unmade kings at pleasure, and could place a crown on any
head but his own. Under the same roof is buried that en-
thusiastic admirer of merit in another, Lord Broke, who
ordered for his own epitaph and panegyric, “Here lies the
friend of Sir Philip Sidney.” The last tomb we noticed
was most touching, as it contained the marble image of a
lovely child, apparently about ten years old, beautifully
sculptured. It wore “the pale smile of beauty in the grave;”
the arms were folded, and the eyes closed, as if in sleep. A
pattern of flowers on the satin frock, seemed as if undoubt.
edly manufactured at Spitalfields; and the round little
arms and hands were perfect. The epitaph called this in-
teresting child “The noble impe Robert of Dudley, son of
Dudley Lord Leicester;” and our cicerone mentioned a
tradition, of which I could not afterwards ascertain the au-
thenticity, that this young boy had been poisoned by his
nurse, at the instigation of an uncle, whose tomb was shown
close by-a silent memorial what transient advantage suc-
cessful crime obtains for short-lived mortals:—
HIILL AND WALLEY, 327
“life can little more supply,
Than just to look about us and to die.”
Who would not rather be laid at rest in the obscurest nook
of a village churchyard, than amid scenes of mournful
splendour such as this, with which the world mocks her
votaries, for the tale over each tomb is one of bloodshed
and cruelty, while cobwebs and stone walls supply the
place of light breezes or sunshine. During life no equality
can exist in any one respect between man and man, for if
all were put on a level to-day, disparities would arise before
to-morrow ; but death is democratic, leaving no earthly
distinction that deserves the name. A quarry of marble
turned into statues, or a pyramid like the highest in Egypt,
would be less important to a Christian hereafter than the
least action of his existence while he remained a living and
responsible being in the world; for what fame can equal
that promise of Holy Scripture, “The righteous shall be
in everlasting remembrance.”
We drove next day to Stoneleigh Abbey; but not being
furnished with an “open sesame” of any sort, I only wish-
ed that our equipage, being a fly, could realize the name,
and carry us over a cruel park wall, which extended its un-
varied front before us for miles, forbidding all hope to tra.
vellers. The fashion of such a solid fence affords great ad-
vantage to proprietors, but none to tourists, who must often
wish the walls were more like those of Romulus, and that
their height was limited to three or four feet, as we might
all then obey the common nursery admonition, to “look
at everything and touch nothing.” Travellers on the
Continent must greatly miss the frequent recurrence of
fine country seats, such as those with which our English
high roads are enlivened, as noblemen’s houses are very few
and very far between abroad. -
The admiration we had prepared for the house at Stone-
leigh Abbey could only be extended to some very magnificent
328 EIILL AND WALLEY.
oaks on the outskirts of the park, and such are their numbers
in this neighbourhood, that oaks are commonly called “War-
wickshire weeds.” Nothing is more rare than really fine
timber, and I grudge no trouble going to admire it in per-
fection, not being quite so indifferent as Mr. —, who
said, when asked to lionize your beautiful forests, “Thank
you, but I have already seen trees enough ſ”
Among the charitable institutions of this neighbourhood,
there are said to be thirty alms-houses for old women —a
proof that the climate is healthy, when so many are re-
quired. A singular bequest has also been made for supply-
ing tradesmen with loans of £100, to establish them in
business. Security must be given for its repayment with.
in nine years; which reminded me of old Mr. , who
left his son a handsome annuity for three years, desiring it
then to be stopped, and kindly remarking, that “Tom must
either by that time have made a living, or was not fit to
live l’”
Having proceeded on our route next morning, through
a rich level country squared into fields like a backgammon
board, we touched at Banbury, and provisioned our carriage
with the celebrated Banbury cakes. From thence we pass-
ed through Woodstock, famous for its gloves, its echo
which repeated an entire hexameter, and for fair Rosa-
mond’s labyrinth. Here also is to be found a great choice
of those captivating little spaniels, which so many fashion-
able ladies go distracted about, and we should certainly
send you one, but for the jealousy with which I already
see in a certain quarter, that affection lavished upon Dido
and Cora which naturally belongs to our own family and
relations; therefore you shall not be provided with so
formidable a rival to throw us all in the background.
These dogs being called after King Charles; the Cardinal
of York used to show one to his visitors at Rome, which
accidentally strayed into his palace, but he always posi-
HILL AND WALLEY. 329
tively maintained that this dog exhibited a remarkable in-
stance of canine sagacity beyond that of any British sub-
ject, for he observed with a sigh, “The poor fellow found
ime out.”
:k >k >k
28%
330 HILL AND WALLEY,
CHAPTER XXIII.
“Marlbro's exploits appear divinely bright,
And proudly shine in their own native light;
Rais'd of themselves, their genuine charms they boast,
And those who paint them truest praise them most.”
- ADDISON.
My DEAR Cousin,--It would require a very fertile ima-
gination to conceive anything more superb than Blen-
heim, which may be considered the highest achievement of
English magnificence; and after having so often tried to
fancy its majestic proportions and gorgeous architecture,
I was glad to find my most enlarged expectations exceeded
by this noble monument of “Marlborough's glory and Bri-
tain's gratitude.” -
The trees around this palace were originally planted in
regimental squares, to represent the exact order in which
our soldiers fought at the battle of Blenheim, but they have
rather broken the line since then, shooting at random for
so many years, that the front and rear ranks are fallen in-
to confusion. At Newliston, where Lord Stair perpetuat-
ed the battle of Dettingen in a similar manner, I am told
the main body still remains, though some stragglers were
cruelly cut down, and this mock fight continues yet to
flourish with unabated vigour.
The inner gate at Blenheim is surmounted by a prodi-
gious arch, on the summit of which stands a large cistern,
intended to supply the house with water, if five hundred
hogsheads be sufficient for the purpose, since it contains
that quantity. In case of a siege, it might be a novel
mode of defence to contrive that this immense reser-
voir should act as a cascade for the occasion, and rush, like
a torrent down upon the foe, sweeping their flocks and herds
when they enter underneath.
HILL AND WALLEY. 331
You often hear of students being “plucked at Oxford,”
but in no place that I ever visited is plucking so thorough-
ly understood, or so inevitably endured, as at Blenheim.
When we entered the gate, a large consequential portress
audibly demanded her fee, and no sooner was our fat friend
disposed of; than near the Titian gallery stood an old man
in livery, equally vociferous in offering us admission, which
we declined, - a third servant intercepted us when he
opened the door-a fourth brought the book in which to
enter our names, and at last we were handed over, like well
squeezed lemons, to be finally wrung out by the principal
showman, who advanced with an air of sovereign dignity,
looking as if he had never seen silver in his life. It is for-
tunately not the province of ladies to decide what fees of
office are due to functionaries on such occasions, or I should
probably go as completely astray from established custom,
as your friend who paid five shillings to “boots” for calling,
him in the morning. -
While inserting my own signature on the Blenheim visit-
ing list, I perceived the illustrious name of Lord L I'62 =
corded, as being then in the palace,—“ and though a Lord,
a learned man.” The newspapers were still ringing with
accounts of his recent brilliant appearance in the House
of Peers ; therefore the pleasure was unexpected as well as
great, to have this opportunity of lionizing so distinguished
a statesman. Very pre-eminent personages, so rarely equal
in society the beau ideal of our imagination, that heroes
and philosophers of extreme celebrity should live unseen,
like the veiled prophet of Khorassan, rather than destroy
the imaginary pictures drawn by their admirers; for in
truth distinguished men with an ordinary portion of diffi-
dence, might occasionally feel inclined to follow the ex-
ample of Mr. Cavendish, who rushed out of the room with
consternation, when my father's friend, Dr. Ingenhouz,
mentioned that his chief object in coming to Britain had
332 HILL AND WALLEY,
been to make his acquaintance. Age and experience soon
cure us of expecting too much from the lions of the day, or
supposing, as children do, that poets speak in blank verse,
that wits fire off a perpetual volley of bon mots, that high-
waymen wear a Robin Hood uniform of green and gold, and
that kings invariably sit on their thrones, as Mr. Elliston
did on the stage, wearing a crown and sceptre, his foot on
a footstool, and a majestic frown in his countenance. Still
we never cease to expect that the external appearance of
extraordinary men shall be extraordinary ; that orators
must of course have an eloquent expression of countenance,
and that heroes are all at least six feet high. Mr.
Sheridan Knowles mentioned in his lectures once, that he
had long been rejected for the principal tragic characters
at Covent Garden, because, though allowed to be a first-
rate comedian, he was not tall enough for tragedy as if
only persons of a certain height could meet with great ca-
lamities, or be entitled to feel the highest excess of grief;
but this shows how general the prejudice is in respect to
personal advantages.
As an exception to general rule, however, I was not dis-
appointed in Lord L ’s countenance, which appeared
both animated and intellectual. Deep thinkers rarely look
clever, because the mind, being turned inwards, it seldom
exhibits any external signs of intelligence; and a gossip-
ing observant eye usually sparkles with ten times more
vivacity; but on the present occasion there seemed no
want of life and expression in the minute attention with
which Lord L examined every object of curiosity. A
numerous flock of fashionable-looking, anonymous ladies
and gentlemen were driven into the room along with us,
all evidently belonging to Almack's, and well known to the
Morning Post. I only wished our cicerone had begun with
pointing his stick at these interesting incognitos, and giving
us their histories and pedigrees, rather than those of the
HILL AND WALLEY. 333
portraits around. An excellent commencement for a novel
might have taken place here, if any young lady present,
affecting not to recognise Lord L. , had expressed great
admiration of a picture there, painted by his father. This
might naturally have led to discussions of the talented son,
and to an enthusiastic panegyric on his recently displayed
eloquence. Of course, Lord L would immediately have
made the acquaintance under an assumed name, and this
might do admirably for a first chapter; but the rest must
be reserved till we publish our set of skeleton novels, to be
edited and filled up by other artists, and all to contain new
and original plots, incidents, and catastrophes. -
The entrance hall at Blenheim is unspeakably grand,
rising the whole height of the palace. It is ornamented on
the roof with an allegorical painting, by Sir James Thorn-
hill, a skilful, but rather gaudy painter. You would won-
der to observe how frequently the great Duke and his beauti-
ful Duchess are represented here. They are exhibited in
white marble, black marble, painting, engraving, bronze,
tapestry, and fresco In this one entrance hall we have
a likeness of his Grace three times repeated. First, a very
handsome bust is elevated over the door ; secondly, a por-
trait looks down from the ceiling, where he appears crown-
ed by victory; and thirdly, his Grace stands in a group,
where it may be hoped he is crowned by domestic happiness,
since he appears with the Duchess, a splendid beauty, though
a perfect volcano for temper. I remember being much di-
verted at old Mrs. —s', the widow, when she pathetically
lamented her deceased husband, saying, “We were the hap.
piest couple in the world during forty years; what EvDR
I SAID was LAW P-and on much the same terms his Grace
obtained peace at home, if he ever enjoyed any; though
his own house was generally more a scene of warfare than
his camp. Perhaps it may be good for military men to be
tyrannized over at home, as they must feel so willing to go
334 - EIILL AND WALLEY.
on foreign service; and probably the Duke often agreed
with Solomon, that “it is better to dwell in a corner of the
house-top, than with a brawling woman in a wide house.”
It is a well-known story, that when the Duke once hesitated
to take some medicine prescribed for him, her Grace ex-
claimed, with extreme vehemence, “I 'll consent to be
hanged if it does not cure you!”—upon which Dr. Garth
dryly added, “Then don’t hesitate a moment longer, my
lord; for it must do good one way or other l’’
The romantic correspondence between the Duchess and
Queen Anne, in their assumed characters of Mrs. Markham
and Mrs. Freeman, certainly conveys a pleasing impression
of “Good Queen Anne's" amiable, but rather insipid cha-
racter; and her steady friendship, under the clouds and
storms of her favourite friend’s caprice and violence,
certainly affords a rare instance of magnanimity, for her
Majesty did not relinquish their intercourse without most
ample provocation from her intriguing and arbitrary
“Prime minister,” as the Duchess was frequently called.
In friendship, as in religion, one talent, with humility, is
better than ten without it. The mildly disposed queen
might have described her friend as a worthy old gentleman
Once remarked of his valet,_* The first year he was my
Servant; the second year, my friend; and the third year,
my tyrant l” In most instances, such alienation of autho-
rity from its legitimate possessor does not arise so much
from the ascendancy of a strong over a weak mind, as from
the power of a bad temper over a good one. Among all
families and associations, the worst temper governs, because
peaceable spirits, like that of Queen Anne, yield in trifles
rather than raise a quarrel, till at last every thing seems
a trifle that might lead to one. The occasion on which
these two friends came to a final rupture exhibits, in pecu-
liarly striking colours, how little any person’s happiness
can be measured from external appearances, for it happened
HILL AND WALLEY. 335
during Queen Anne's triumphal procession to return thanks
at St. Paul’s for the success of her arms abroad. She was
tortured, in her state carriage, by the irritable complaints
of her Grace, because the arrangement of the Queen's own
ornaments had been altered ; and a scene of mutual re-
proach ensued between the two ci-devant friends, which
terminated in an irreconcileable breach. Such are the
mournful divisions which occur sometimes in the oldest and
most confidential attachments, affording a painful illustra-
tion how transitory our best earthly blessings may finally
prove. Few are so fortunate as not at some time in their
lives to lament over the estrangement of friends, without
whose affection it once seemed impossible to exist; but
changes continually occur in the progress of life which
seemed impossible at the outset, and are calculated to turn
our thoughts the more gratefully towards that one only
friend whose benignant goodness remains through every
vicissitude of life unalterable.
A violent temper like the Duchess of Marlborough's can
always fancy every one else in the wrong, and I could
scarcely desire a truer test of any stranger's disposition
than to ask him whether those he usually lives with are
amiable or not ; because irritable persons complain conti-
nually that, owing to their own gentleness and forbearance,
they are oppressed or ill-treated. It was only such an ad-
mirable man as Dr. who would have thought of re-
marking that he found no opportunity to exercise patience
and forbearance, because all those around him were so
amiable, they never in any respect tried his temper. How
invariably we see that the most elevated minds are the
humblest, and that those who feel perfectly self-satisfied,
neither know the difficulties of piety and virtue, nor have at-
tained any great eminence morally, religiously, or intellec-
tually. It is difficult to help smiling when we read in Mrs.
Jameson’s history, that “Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough,
336 HILL AND WALLEY.
whose life had been one long warfare upon earth, a species
of female salamander, who lived in the very elements of
contention, went down to the grave complaining that all
people in the world were so disagreeable she had never
found anything to love 1°
How truly has history been called “ philosophy teaching
by examples ;” and amidst a scene which commemorates
so many useful domestic lessons, as well as all that can be
imagined of human grandeur and intellect, we remember
with emotion those lines of Dr. Johnson, which strike so
sadly on the memory in alluding to that living death
which the great and no less excellent Duke endured at
last :— *
“From Marlborough's eyes the tears of dotage flow !”
Scarcely any hero in history combined so many admira-
ble qualities to make us reverence his memory. Of him it
was truly remarked, that he never fought a battle which he
did not gain, nor besieged a town he did not take ; but
other generals, successful in the field, were not so severely
tried at home ; and his private conduct seemed as admira-
ble, as his more brilliant achievements abroad. It has
been said of Alexander the Great, that he conquered the
world but could not conquer himself; Marlborough did
both. He was a Christian in the highest sense of the
word ; and we read that on the field of battle his prayers
were publicly offered up before the conflict, that divine
service was regularly performed in his camp, that he fre-
quently partook of the holy Sacrament, and that his ex-
ample spread a reverence for religion and good order in
every regiment. The only fault ever laid to his charge
was, a love of money ; and it would have been well for
the family if that tendency had been, in some moderate de-
gree, hereditary. As the old miser said to a spendthrift,
who came to beg at the house which had once been his own,
“We must live poor, to die rich.”
HILL AND WALLEY, 337
Queen Anne's portrait is suspended in the gallery at Blen-
heim, a chef d’azuvre by Sir Peter Lely, who has outdone
himself on this occasion ; so I need not remark as the
Vicar of Wakefield did, when he wished to pass for a con-
noisseur, “this painting might have been better, if the art-
ist had taken more pains;” yet the utmost flattery of an
artist's brush could not prevent the Queen from appearing
rather inanimate, with certainly very blunt, homely features.
The statue of her Majesty by Rysbraek, which cost £5,000,
is very majestic, and excellently sculptured in most beautiful
and spotless marble. Do you remember some author com-
paring the mind to marble from a quarry, and education
to the chisel, which moulds it into any form, yet the origi-
nal material remains unaltered, and whatever stains or de-
fects are inherent there, cannot be removed by human
power 7 but this pure and untainted image seemed really a
suitable emblem of our good Queen Anne, whom history re-
presents in such pleasing colours after she ascended the
throne; though I can never excuse her abandonment of her
father in his adversity, which drew from him the pathetic
exclamation, “God help us ! my very children have forsa-
ken me.”
Among countless Madonnas at Blenheim, the most pre-
eminently beautiful is by Carlo Dolce, in a blue dress, wear-
ing a tiara of stars round her head, while a tear rests on
her cheek. In this lovely picture, the hand is symmetry
itself, and the expression of countenance unspeakably in-
teresting. Another Madonna is there, by Vandyck, which
it would of course be etiquette to admire, so I shall say no-
thing about my own private opinion, and a third by Leo-
mardo da Vinci, to which you may suppose a page of ec-
stasies are due, though I scarcely looked at it, because eve-
ry moment seemed lost not devoted to that he plus ultra, by
Carlo Dolce, to which we repeatedly returned with unsha-
ken constancy.
29
338 HILL AND VALLEY,
Vandyck probably made a rule to paint none but hand-
some women, as all his pictures represent first-rate beauties.
An aptist must certainly feel rather in a predicament when
any one proposes to sit, neither young enough to look poe-
tical nor old enough to be picturesque ; and those who are
not on convas before thirty, should wait ’till they are at
least sixty or seventy. Vandyck’s Henrietta Maria is a
very beautiful picture, but we looked on her without much
interest or approbation, and passed on to admire portraits
by the same artist, representing Mary Duchess of Richmond,
Lady Chesterfield, and also the Duchess of Buckingham,
surrounded by a little family of formal-looking children.
The triumph of Vandyck’s pencil is the King Charles at
Blenheim ; and a more majestic, spirited portrait cannot
be conceived. The King is riding a dun horse, and his ex-
pression of countenance wears a degree of cheerful urbani-
ty, different from the usual mournful look, which caused
cotemporary writers to say that his fate was written on his
features. The beautiful horse looks as proud as a cavalier,
curving his neck and prancing along, evidently conscious
of his rider's dignity. What a price he would bring at
Tattersal's now ! There is quite a family feud in our
house, about the comparative merit of Vandyck’s two por-
traits representing King Charles. That at Warwick Cas-
tle or this at Blenheim; but the two accompanying
sketches by Sir James Stuart will at once convince you how
superior is the judgment of those who prefer the one I do.
You know the moment we take a side in any controversy,
our very lives seem to depend on bringing every one else to
think the same, of which an amusing instance took place
when Dr. Johnson spent a day once at Portsmouth. Some
dispute was then going on about the docks; and after
hearing it argued for some minutes, he sided keenly with
one of the parties, and exclaimed, in a tone of prodigious
vehemence, “Sir I hate a docker ſ”
HILL AND WALLEY. 339
The tapestry here seems very fine, and of course repre-
sents the great duke himself, who is exhibited at all his
principal victories in regular succession as they took place.
Battle pieces generally display a great deal of sameness;
clouds of smoke over head, several prostrate warriors with
swords through their bodies, steeds galloping without riders,
and in the centre a desperate conflict between two heroes,
one mounted on a brown horse and the other on a grey.
Here, however, my rule had an exception, as great variety.
appeared in the grouping and attitudes, particularly in
one magnificent piece of tapestry, where the Duke’s A, D, C,
is riding forward hat in hand for orders, when he really
seems springing from the canvas. Much of the old tapes-
try, so greatly admired at Hampton Court, has no more
colouring left than a blanket, though the outline is very
spirited ; but you would be exceedingly amused at some
imitation tapestry hung up in the drawing-room at
which is most ingenious and original. There, all the de-
signs are taken from pictures in the Vatican, the faces
carefully worked, but the draperies cut out in cloth or linen,
and sewed on in patches. Scarlet uniforms are literally
represented in cloth of that hue, and velvet gowns cut out
in velvet, after which the lights and shadows are painted
roughly with a brush. You would not believe how much
the effect resembles that of the finest Gobelin; and a large
room is hung in this way, where visitors have remained for
days without observing the artifice.
We hurried round the great drawing-room at Blenheim
as if it had been a menagerie of wild beasts, while the keep-
er went through the routine of his story in that drawling
professional tone, which shews how wearied he is of the
subject, and any one asking an extra question made him
return to the starting point like a race-horse after bolting
off the course. A very interesting picture is here by Sir
Joshua Reynolds, of the late duke and duchess with their
9
340 HILL AND WALH.E.Y.,
six children, all handsome, and apparently promising. The
eldest daughter became so celebrated for beauty and caprice,
that her life and adventures ought to be in every circulating
library. She engaged to marry three different peers, besides
disappointing a host of inferior suitors, and was at last bewil-
dered with their numbers, like any little girl in a toy-shop
selecting her doll. The first to whom she became affianc-
ed was Lord , who arrived at Blenheim for the mar-
riage, accompanied by a friend, to act in the capacity of
“best man;” but unluckily the fickle bride thought him
literally “best,” and broke off her previous engagement to
betroth herself anew. Not long afterwards, however, she
took an altered view of the subject, and married, on short
notice, Lord C , leaving both her previous lovers to sing
the old song, . -
“What care I how fair she be,
If she be not fair to me.”
Neither had any permanent cause to regret their disap-
pointment because of any loss to themselves, as both after-
wards married amiable, accomplished ladies, more richly
gifted personally than Lady C–, and still richer in what
the world calls “the main point.”
Sir Joshua Reynolds's family pictures are commonly
thought to exhibit more incident and story than those of
any other painter, considering that in general no unity of
design appears, but merely a collection of unmeaning por-
traits thrown together with no more grace and combina-
tion than the nine Miss Flamborough's, each with her
orange. An interesting group is hung in this room by Sir
Joshua, which represents Lady Charlotte Spencer disguised
as a gipsey, and telling her brother, Lord Henry, his for.
tune. If she could have peeped into futurity on her own
account, and foreseen the mes-alliance she was destined to
form in eloping with Mr. N , it would at that time
HILL AND WALLEY. 34]
have greatly surprised her. A celebrated picture is report-
ed to be here, which we did not see, representing Lady
Anne Spencer, with whom her grandmother, the first
duchess, had a violent quarrel, after which her Grace caused
the beautiful portrait to be daubed entirely over with black
paint, and then inscribed, in large letters on the frame,
“She is still blacker within.” - . . .
It is surprising that when there are inexhaustible multi-
tudes of pleasing subjects for the pencil, artists so often dis-
play a perverted taste, by choosing those which are pain-
ful and revolting. An instance of this we saw at Blenheim,
where a picture is shewn, horribly true to nature, of Seneca
bleeding to death while dictating to his secretary; and only
those who could have felt gratified by seeing the reality,
could have pleasure in looking at this. I wish Mr. Alison,
in his work upon taste, had given a chapter “ on subjects
for painting,” and we might then have spared such pictures
as that of “Despair' at Guy’s Cliff, the cold stern agony
of which leaves such a sentiment of horror on the mind,
that no one can ever remember it afterwards without a
momentary depression. Holbein’s famous picture also of
Lady Jane Seymour after death, painted in various shades
of white, was so shocking, and yet so exquisitely drawn,
that it changed places as often as Hunchback in the Ara-
bian Nights, being sold and re-sold by successive owners,
who found the effect too painful; and certainly such ghast-
ly representations are most unsuitable in any room where
we are expected either to dine or sleep. Every young be.
ginner in historical design tries his “prentice hand ” on a
terrifying representation of Judith and Holofernes, of which,
in great collections, one may always be found, often two,
and sometimes even three ; but I greatly prefer seeing peo-
ple with their heads on. The only comic subject painted
by Vandyck is shewn here.-Time clipping Cupid's wings.
Poets differ from this artist, because their common com-
29*
342 IIILL AND WALLEY.
plaint is that time rather gives wings to Cupid than takes
them away.
When any lady professing dilitanteism perceives a par-
ticularly blue cold piece of water represented, with a
crowd of boats and peasants, a town in the centre and
a tower in the distance,—she may establish her credit at
once, by confidently pronouncing it “a Canaletti;” be-
cause, nine times in ten it will turn out one of his innume.
rable pictures of Venice, four of which are hung in one
room at Blenheim. Near these, we observed a hideous
portrait of Catherine de Medicis, evidently planning the
massacre of St. Bartholomew ; and her expression was so
sinister and malevolent, that I could not wonder at our
ambassador, when she afterwards asked, on some occasion,
whether he did not trust to her word, and he indignantly
replied, “No, by St. Bartholomew, madam 7” A print
from this picture might be lithographed, to serve as an oc-
casional substitute for one sold these many years past, to
represent successively all the female criminals executed in
London. The celebrated likeness of Lord Strafford, dic-
tating to his secretary, by Vandyck, is a most attractive
master-piece, and occupied ten minutes out of the two
hours we had to spare for the whole Blenheim gallery. A
representation here of Lady Harriet Godolphin is beautiful,
and also that of the lovely and interesting Lady Sunder-
land, displaying a softness of expression very different
from that of her high-spirited mother. Nothing can be
more touching than the farewell letter of Lady Sunder-
land to her husband, when she died, at the age of twenty-
nine ; and the prayers she left in writing, show how deep-
ly her exemplary father's precepts had been implanted in
his children’s minds. - º
The Blenheim library is so long a room, measuring
183 feet, that Captain Barclay might have walked his wa-
ger there ; and in looking at so great a mass of literature,
FIII, L AND WALLETT, 343
I could not but think how large a proportion of the most
extensive library has sometimes been distilled into the
compass of one studious brain, for often, in seeing a learned
philosopher among his books, the wonder arises, how
“one small head should carry all he knew.” In this room
we saw another bust and picture of the great duke, whom
I know by sight now as well as the king's head on the
coinage. In the previous room, his portrait also decorated
the roof, where Time is represented touching his Grace's
shoulder with a remonstrating look, to remind the hero
that he must prepare to be conquered at last. We now
proceeded to take our final leave of the illustrious duke, in
a chapel where his magnificent monument was raised by
the duchess. Here we paid our tribute of respect and
regret to the memory of one, whose varied talents in the
field and in the cabinet have only once been equalled in
this country since ; and in considering that the greatest
hero and statesman of his day was, even then, as in more
modern times, “baited with the rabble’s curse,” I could
not but lament to think how rarely British laurels are per-
mitted to be evergreens. Nothing lasts now !—all is on a
gallop like our stage coaches ;--the greatest men fall into
oblivion almost before they are buried ; and even Bona-
parte, whose memoirs were so often written, that he seem-
ed likely to have nine lives at least, is no more remembered
now than Themistocles :—
— glory long has made the sages Smile,
'Tis something, mothing, words, illusions, wind,-
Depending more upon the historian's style
Than on the name a person leaves behind :
Troy owes to Homer what whist owes to Hoyle,
The present century was growing blind
To the great Marlborough's skill in giving knocks,
Until his late life by Archdeacon Coxe.
Nothing surprises me more than the deficiency of fences
344 HILL AND WALLEY.
round the fields in some parts of Oxfordshire, where I had
imagined land so valuable that it would be let by inches in-
stead of acres ; yet neither hedges nor walls intercepted
our view in many parts of the road. English farmers
and proprietors are obliged, by ancient rights of prescrip-
tion, generally to leave a public path across their hay and
corn fields, with most inviting stiles at each end, to facili-
tate the enjoyment of pedestrians,—a custom which must
have originated on some properties from liberal and hos-
pitable feelings in those who first established them; very
different from more northern regions, where we find tickets
threatening intruders with prosecution, at the places where
a good-natured gate or a turn-style would have been more
acceptable. The ground in this country is strewed over
with large masses of chalk and flint, which look very ad-
verse to agriculture ; but a landholder formerly caused all
those which lay on one of his farms to be carefully remov-
ed, and the fields did not bear nearly so well without the
warmth and shelter which they had imparted; so the crop
continued deficient for some years, till the stones were
scattered in their places again. Nature is often right
when we imagine her in error, and perhaps it might be
better if she were less out of fashion, and more consulted
Oil subjects of greater importance,—on the cultivation of
mind as well as matter.
HILL AND WALLEY, 345
CHAPTER XXIV.
No wonder that Oxford and Cambridge profound
In learning and science so greatly abound,
Since some carry thither a little each day,
And we meet with so few that bring any away.
MY DEAR Cousin, You may have heard that an Ox-
ford invitation is alleged to be generally given in these
terms:—“Will any body go any where?” If ever you
are favoured with such an offer, pray accept it, and make
a point of coming here, as you never can conceive such a
city of palaces without actually beholding them all ; and
as the Irishman said at a concert, “I would have willingly
cut off my head to get here, provided my eyes and ears
might remain.”
I expected the streets to be paved with books, and the
very air to be impregnated with classical lore, in a place
where, instead of breathing fire and gunpowder, like the
hero of Blenheim, the inhabitants breathe Latin and
Greek, -live upon problems, sleep over Aristotle,_-and
“eat” their terms,
Oxford has been called the sun, the eye, and the soul
of Great Britain, -the seat of learning, and the cradle of
science ; therefore, while entering this august city, I called
up on the occasion some of those fine feelings which have
always been intended for my first sight of Rome. We
proposed, however, to keep a very short term at the uni-
versity, being only able to remain one night, though never
were hours more actively employed in seeing the world.
As Parson Este used to remark, when many events occur.
red in a short period, “we lived at the rate of a century a
day;” and our associations and recollections reached far
346 HILL AND WALLEY.
back into antiquity, while the vulgar necessities for eating
and sleeping were almost entirely dispensed with, appear-
ing but troublesome interruptions to the great business of
steeple-hunting and picture-gazing.
Unfortunately, we reached Oxford during the vacation,
when none of the living lions were visible, neither proc-
tors nor doctors, -neither gold tufts nor gentlemen com-
moners, lounging along in their graceful flowing draperies,
—and not a single college had its “ Fellow.” I called
over a muster-roll in my own mind, of all the great men
who might have been there, a bright constellation of
names, such as Routh, Shuttleworth, Pusey, Newman,
Hampden, Buckland, and all the Bridgewater Treatises;
but they were shining in different hemispheres. I could
actually have made a compromise to see that well-known
personage, “Jack Ireland,” with whom my father boarded
formerly ; but he also was reported “absent without leave,”
and we had all Oxford to ourselves |
Even in such a place as this, family feelings claimed
the first attention. My researches were begun by disco-
vering every college where our own friends or ancestors
had been educated, and observing the very windows out of
which they formerly gazed,—the very tables at which
they had probably eaten their commons,—and the very
chapels in which they attended prayers. Forefathers,
uncles, brothers, and cousins, were all thus identified with
the walls which formerly witnessed their studies or their
idleness, and we gazed with interest at those institutions,
To whose protecting care they owe
All they’ve forgot, and all they know.
Trinity College was the object of our highest veneration
and regard, as the scene where a beloved and honoured
parent prepared his mind for that life of ceaseless energy
and diligence, extending throughout more than eighty
HILL AND WALLEY, 347
years, during which scarcely an hour was lost in indo-
lence, but all devoted, with unwearying philanthropy, to
the interest of every person living, except himself.”
Christ Church has boasted of its great men ; but we
thought only of our entertaining grand-uncle, Sir Archi-
bald Macdonald, with his brown wig, amusing stories, and
genuine rappee. In those days, among the twelve judges,
who each bore a soubriquet in allusion to their habits, he
* Since then, the grave has closed over a patriot, whose exertions
for his country's good death alone could suspend. “ The night cometh,
when no man can work.” It may be permitted to one who witnessed
a life of ardent philanthropy and laborious enterprise, to pause for a
moment in solemn remembrance of the past,-of a time when every
scheme of usefulness had a sanguine supporter, when every talented
countryman, struggling into notice, found a zealous friend, – when
every successful, cotemporary received the most heartfelt and cordial
applause. If a thought for himself mingled with the generous enthu-
siasm of his character, it was a fervent desire to live in the remem-
brance of those he served ; nor was that tribute of grateful regret too
much to claim for The Historian of the Public Revenue, the Father of
statistical philosophy in Britain,_the author of the Statistical account
of Scotland,--the Founder and President of the Board of Agriculture,
--the institutor and chairman of the British wool society,+the man
who showed England how to improve her husbandry, to retrieve her
commercial difficulties, and to unite economy with efficiency in her
finances.* To the sons of the clergy he presented the fruits of his
greatest and most laborious work; in his native county, which was
a desert till his active spirit improved it, hundreds owe their success
in life to his assistance at the outset; and his private fortune was ex-
pended as unreservedly as his time, in successfully promoting the
public good. Those who are patriots only to aggrandize themselves,
rise to a conspicuous place in the remembrance of mankind; but pa-
triots in the old sense of that name, who serve their country at the
sacrifice of all personal interest, may live in the pleasing conscious-
ness of what their country derives from their exertions; but they must
rest from their labours hereafter with no other epitaph except those
well-known words:–NON IMPERATOR! NoN PATRIA! conjux, LIBE-
RIQUE POSUERE.
* See Memoirs.
348 HILL AND VALLEY.
was called Snuff-box,-Baron G.
another Sauce-box,−a fourth Strong-box,−and a fifth
Band-box, on account of his personal neatness. Pembroke
College is known to others as having been the alma mater
of Johnson, Shenstone, Blackstone, Bishop Hall, and Whit.
field; but to us it shone only as the scene where J
impaired his eye-sight in pouring over the crabbed charac-
ters of Thucydides and Aristotle. Oriel has displayed its
constellation of stars; but Copleston himself was of secon-
dary importance, when we remembered that this was the
very spot where our talented and accomplished uncle A–
spent the joyous hours of his youth, and enacted those en-
tertaining scenes, which he so often afterwards amused us
by relating. And last, not least, St. Mary Hall derived
less interest from the arch-jacobite King's heart being bu-
ried there, than from W--possessing rooms in it now.
Having impatiently summoned his “scout,” announcing
that we had permission to lionize the apartments, this very
distinguished functionary seemed somewhat amazed at our
eagerness, and flew off to fetch his keys—a bunch of such
prodigious magnitude, that they equalled those with which
Blue Beard's wife entered the forbidden closet. Alas! we
had not similar success. The keys were applied one after
another in vain, after which our obliging groom-of-the-
chambers became nervous, and forcibly turned the lock
every way except the right one, till the spring must have
been entirely ruined in so desperate an effort to undo it.
I almost wished we could summon one of the “swell mob”
from London to assist our awkward friend in his attempt
at house-breaking; but “Sam” was evidently born to die
an honest man. - - - ' -
We now proceeded, in the regular routine of duty, to
observe by rule, and to admire methodically those ancient
halls where, during successive centuries, future bishops and
chancellors first set their foot on the ladder of preferment.
Chatter-box,−
EIILL AND WALLEYs 349
Here, probably, few ever entered without auguring for them.
selves a degree of greatness and celebrity far exceeding
what they ever ultimately attained ; for all learned profes-
sions are so over-stocked with competitors, that they might
be compared to a platform on which ten men could be ex-
alted, but on which ten thousand are expecting to rise.
I never yet conversed with an Oxonian who did not look
back upon his university career as the happiest period of
his existence, for then “the romance of life was only begin-
ning, while its stern realities were yet at a distance.” The
future we settle like Alnaschar, on a plan of our own, and
few entirely refrain from wasting their precious hours in
day-dreams, though time and experience testify how little
real happiness could be secured by their realization. Most
men thus begin life, expecting promotion equal to their
merits, which are estimated ad libitum by themselves; but
they generally end complaining that they have been under-
valued by the world, and looking back with regret on the
time when they rested on the verdict of friends rather than
of the public. Many agree in opinion at last with the phi-
losopher, who remarked on his death-bed, that as far as he
could observe, “the chief characteristic of life is the frus-
tration of purpose.” ‘’
Strangers are apt to fancy Oxford like a club or a mo-
nastery, utterly destitute of ladies; but when you were
piqued formerly at those who descanted on the felicity of
living at a university, we ought to have remembered that,
though the fellows and students have neither wives nor
daughters, many families reside here, and lawyers, doctors,
clergymen, and shopkeepers, bring their whole domestic
circle with them. Instead of seeing no bonnets among the
caps and gowns at Oxford, we met the usual proportion of
coiffures, according to Madame Carson’s last authority on
the subject; and many a susceptible student may yet be
situated like the unhappy Rogero, and exclaim,
30
350 HILL AND WALLEY,
Sun, moon, and thou vain world, adieu !
That kings and priests are plotting in ;
My years are many—they were few,
When first I entered at the U-
miversity of Gottingen.
There first for thee my passion grew,
Sweet, sweet Matilda Pottingen;
Thou wast the daughter of my tu-
tor, law-professor of the U- -
miversity of Gottingen.
From respect for its episcopal dignity, we ordered our
carriage to the Mitre, supposing that nothing in Oxford
could rise superior to that Right Reverend house; but
after remaining perfectly satisfied during about ten minutes,
I unexpectedly caught a glimpse of “The Angel” opposite,
brilliantly illuminated with gas, like a gin palace, or Alad-
din’s, while a phalanx of waiters beset the door, exhibiting
looks of importance not yet subsided since a recent royal.
visitation. We were evidently in the wrong; but the
worthy old Mitre Suited my conceptions of learned seclu-
sion and real comfort best, with its venerable oak pannels
and, dark narrow stair-cases; therefore we sat down to
consider and enjoy the incalculable advantages of civilized
life to travellers. Here we were provided instantaneously
with a Snug fire-side of our own ; an excellent cook, butier,
and housemaid; an invitation to remain as long as may be
agreeable; and a perfect certainty that the more trouble
we give the more welcome we are. It was only to visitors
in a private residence that Solomon gave that useful admo-
nition, “Remove thy foot from thy neighbour's house, lest
he weary of thee and hate thee.”
Dinner was served up close to a large bay window, pro-
jecting over the stréet, which formed an admirable position
for studying life and manners, while I watched and observ-
ed all that passed as if we were never again to behold any
HILL AND WALLEY. . 351
thing worth seeing. Dr. Johnson said, that some persons
who travel all over the world scarcely see moré than others
do in a drive from Highgate to Hampstead; but though at
a German university, or at any little French sea-port, the
description of our window meditations might be endurable,
yet, however valuable they may have been, and probably
were, you would as soon expect me to send a quantity of
Honiton lace or British cambric as a lengthened disserta-
tion on what we remarked in the streets of Oxford.
“Mine hostess,” a very skilful florist, invited me to in-
spect some flourishing geraniums and myrtles in her balcony,
which I really envied her the glory of having reared. Each .
plant seemed an object of individual attachment, such as
can only be felt when we raise a few ourselves; for those
cultivators who scatter their affections over a whole garden,
must feel greatly divided in their preference, and become in-
different to all. -
In admiring the congress of splendid colleges and chapels
assembled at Oxford, we are convinced that never again
will such a collection of noble edifices be raised, for it would
require millions of gold and centuries of time to equal the
noble architecture and gorgeous ornaments abounding here,
while the taste and inclination for erecting them are as un-
likely to be forthcoming as the money.
If you were choosing a college at which to matriculate,
there are several of greater name and more splendid archi-
tecture than Queen’s ; but that attracted me most by the
air of learned sobriety remarkable in its magnificent quad-
rangle. This is one of the most ancient institutions in Ox-
ford, founded by Philippa, consort of Edward III., and
named after her. She established a custom which probably
still continues. On New Year's Day each member of that
college receives a needle and thread, accompanied by the
salutary injunction, “Be thrifty.” The thread of an argu-
352 HILL AND VALLEY.
ment is the only one, however, which they actually learn
to draw out.
A boar's head is also carried round this college on Christ-
mas-day with great ceremony, because a student, during
his residence there, once killed a boar by thrusting a Greek
book down his throat You have heard already of an OX-
ford cram, when the scholars understood no more than this
animal what they swallowed, and are not likely to die of
repletion afterwards.
Oriel claimed our admiration next, and excited peculiar
interest, being connected with so many celebrated names
of individuals elected into that foundation.
It has been remarked as a singular coincidence, that the
same college should first have included among its members
the liberal school of Whately, Arnold, and Hampden, after
which, by a remarkable vicissitude, came Pusey, Newman,
and Keble, the high-church brotherhood, who have astonish-
ed the world by lately reviving the opinions of the ancient
fathers. The building itself, shut up in a dark lane, and
crumbling into decay, was no bad emblem of the moth-eat-
en opinions now taught within its walls; but on the whole,
this college looked remarkably cheerful, considering how pe-
culiarly unfortunate all its benefactors were. The unhap-
py Edward II. and Charles I., whose arms adorn the gate-
way, might be instanced among the number. We saw a
gold cup, presented by Edward II., very like those given in
these degenerate days for success in training dogs instead
of scholars. But what chiefly delighted us, was the por.
trait of Bishop Butler, the illustrious author of the Analogy,
a work which every individual should read once a-year till
he can understand it, and once a-year afterwards to enjoy
it. An eminent Scotch divine most justly and emphati-
cally observed, “Sir you talk of the wealth of the Church
of England but if all the revenues of the see of Durham,
from the Conquest till now, were accumulated in one vast
EIILL AND WALLEY. 353
sum, the whole would be too little for the purchase of that
inestimable work.” -
As an old prophecy foretells that Friar Bacon’s obser-
vatory shall fall upon the first man who enters more learn-
ed than the founder himself, I thought A would be a
dangerous companion to venture there with, so we turned
off, and directed our peregrination towards the high tower
of Christ Church, where nearly the largest bell in England
tolls one hundred and one strokes every night, in honour of
the one hundred and one students. It is seven feet in di-
ameter, weighs 17,000 pounds, and has a voice only equalled
by the great Tom of Lincoln and his noisy brother the great
Tom of Tongue. It would be curious to ascertain why
the largest bells in England are all dedicated to St. Thomas;
but besides those already enumerated, there are many more
bearing that name which pay a similar very audible tribute
to his memory. We often read of a merry peal being rung,
but I never heard any chime of bells that did not sound ex-
ceedingly dismal, and “moan sad music round.” . Few are
of opinion with the old sexton, who thought no sound equal
to a knell, or with Bonaparte, who frequently stopped the
most interesting conversation that he might listen with de-
light to the tinkling of bells. We read that in the Jewish
ritual, Aaron and his descendants all wore bells on their
robes, which was probably the origin of their being used
in sacred edifices; and in the Romish Church a very
solemn service took place when a bell was baptized. Schil.
ler writes a beautiful “Song of the Bell,” in which they
are described as “neighbour to the stars;” but it has
been slyly hinted that they are very changeable friends,
equally ready to ring for our weddings or our funerals:
To call the folks to church in time, I chime;
When mirth and joy are on the wing-Iring;
When from the body parts the soul, I toll.
30%
354 EIILL AND WALLEY.,
At the gate of Christ Church we saw one of Queen Anne's
statues, which are commoner than her farthings—a room
might be peopled with the number still extant. It is record-
ed of her Majesty, that from indifference to dress, she never
bought a single jewel during the whole course of her reign.
How different from Queen Elizabeth, who spent a revenue on
ornaments, and left three thousand gowns in her wardrobe.
A valuable succession to her ladies in waiting, had it been
the case as an old gentleman once positively maintained,
that the maids of honour at court always wear the Queen's
cast-off dresses -
Christ Church may be considered a monument to the
memory of Cardinal Wolsey its founder. Certainly, if the
clergy were rich in former days, they left splendid legacies
to the public. All-Souls College was also built by a former
Archbishop of Canterbury, and does him great honour, being
a very handsome edifice. A swarm of masons were renew-
ing the outside wall when we lionized it, and their labo-
rious work proceeded gradually stone by stone, with the
minutest accuracy, one slab being taken down and ano-
ther precisely its counterpart laid in its place, with a de-
gree of accuracy which a Chinese artist could scarcely
have excelled. The whole effect was most creditable to
modern chisels, as the workmanship was in some places as
minute as a watch-chain. -
Magdalen College showed itself next, and I wished, if the
time had not been above six months distant, that we could
have remained there till the 1st of May, to see the choris-
ters assemble at day-break, according to a good old custom,
to sing a morning hymn on the summit of Magdalen Tow-
er. The effect must be beautiful! In the chapel is a
magnificent stone altar-piece, carved with imitations of
every musical instrument mentioned in Scripture, trum-
pets, drums, and dulcimers, the last utterly unknown to
HILL AND WALLEY. 355
living amateurs, and not very distinctly imagined by the
sculptor. •
A lady at Magdalen chapel was intently occupied in
copying the exquisite altar-piece by Guido, Christ bear-
ing the cross. She had succeeded so admirably in the out-
line and colouring, that the fair artist might change the
pieces without being detected. In the Dresden gallery,
those who obtain leave to paint, are only allowed that pri-
vilege on condition of either adding some trifling object,
or leaving out one in the composition, as a precaution to
prevent their attempts from passing for the original, or ex-
actly resembling the engravings. It is alleged of an Ame.
rican shopkeeper, that, having some time since got pos-
session of a singularly fine Vandyck, and hearing a cus.
tomer in raptures on beholding it, he obligingly offered to
let him have it, “provided he would order a new one to be
made, and sent to him instead.” * * -
For merely repairing the beautiful Chapel at Magdalen
College, £5,000 has already been paid, which might have
built a church in the present day, when sacred edifices are
like packing-boxes, only made for what they can contain.
An ingenious process was about to be tried in the hall of
this College, where the fine old wainscoat had formerly
been daubed over with French grey paint, but a chemical
mixture is now invented for pealing it off, which seems
successful, though very tedious on account of the minute
and elaborate workmanship. This venerable carving came
originally from Reading Abbey, where formerly it was well
known and much admired. The gardens at Magdalen are
beautifully situated on the banks of the Cherwell, and dou-
bly interesting to those who remember that Addison and
Gibbon used to lounge under the shade of those tall majestic
elms. An amusing anecdote is told here of a learned Doc-
tor’s ignorance about rural affairs. He had become an-
noyed by the profusion of long grass within the enclosures,
356 HILL AND WALLEY.
and sent for a gardener to ascertain how it could be got
rid of. The most obvious plan was, that it should be let to
a dairy farmer, which the man suggested saying, “Twen-
ty cows, Sir, might come at £5 a-week, and they would eat
it down in a month.” “Then,” said the Doctor impatiently,
“get forty cows, and give them double pay to eat it down
in a fortnight !”
Students at our Colleges in Scotland are generally
thought to be rather desultory in their reading, and to aim.
more at diffusion than at accuracy of knowledge ; but in
Oxford, a graduate who seeks distinction, must confine him-
self to such studies as he can master thoroughly. It is
not what a student knows, that he is valued for here, but
chiefly according to the power with which his whole fa-
culties can be concentrated on any one object; and though
the mathematical sciences are now more encouraged at
Oxford than formerly, still I am told that the history, poe-
try, and philosophy of the ancients are considered the
grand criterion of distinction. - -
Every morning at seven o’clock, the bells of the various
Colleges summon students to morning prayers in chapel,
and they dare not be absent more than twice a-week.
They afterwards breakfast in their own apartments, or in
sociable coteries of two or three, and at nine, the studious
men close their outward doors for solitary reading, or, to
use an Oxford expression, they “sport oak.” Then ſol-
lows the lecture of the College tutor, a personage of so
much importance at the University, that I have often been
amused to think of our friend K with his Scotch ideas,
thinking it a great condescension, on the first evening of
his residence at Christ Church, when he sent his compli.
ments to the College tutor, and would be happy to see him
at tea.
The student’s day is generally filled up by a walk, a din.
ner “in hall,” the evening wine party, and then, we may
THILL AND WALLEY. 357
hope, the midnight oil of solitary labour and deep research.
There are, however, a few exceptions to my general out-
line ; as politicians have a spouting club, and the best col-
lection of periodicals in the kingdom. Musical men meet
once a-week for amateur concerts. Idlers ride and play
at billiards in winter, and boat and play at cricket in sum-
mer; and during the hunting season, there are but too
many “men in pink" to be seen issuing from the stables
of Messrs. Sheard and Quarterman. -
It would be difficult to obtain an accurate knowledge
what the expenses of an Oxford education amount to, some
men being able to manage with credit and respectability on
£200 a-year, while others squander the same sum on cigars
and horses.
Parents too generally give allowances to their sons, like
the old minister to his pensioners, “You may give Jenny
Anderson ten shillings, for it will scarcely go so far as the
five I sent, to her sister.” One student paid £1,000 for
furnishing his rooms at Oxford ; but all extravagance is
discountenanced by the Heads of Houses, and a young
man of prudence like G F might finish his Oxford
career, with ease and comfort, on an income of £300,
which, though it seems a perfect revenue, amounts to not
more than what is paid now at first-rate boarding schools
in London for educating and “finishing” young ladies.”
We hurried next morning to the Bodleian library ; in-
deed we hurried every-where, being only able to linger in
any place from minute to minute, and I mean to spend a
month in my arm-chair afterwards, to recover the fatigue.
This one day of sight-seeing gave me some faint idea what
travellers suffer who go abroad, where their whole lives are
passed at full speed, flying from gallery to gallery, from
statue to statue, and from picture to picture, thus undergo-
ing certainly the greatest wear and tear of strength and
spirits that can well be imagined, when added to the men-
358 EIILL AND WALLEY,
tal labour of making up your mind incessantly whether to
be pleased or disappointed. -
I am often amused at those who escort their friends to
see the wonders of the world, because they so frequently
lose patience if the precise remarks are not made which
they anticipate. Our observations may be better or worse
than were expected, but if they do not contain exactly the
allowance of admiration and astonishment due to the oc-
casion, obvious dissatisfaction is excited. On this occa-
sion, however, I was fortunately tuned up to concert
pitch, as no one can be otherwise than amazed at first
beholding that great “catacomb of literature,” the Bod-
leian library :—
“Productive was the world in many things,
But most in books.”
It is said that the longest life would not suffice to turn over
the pages of all these volumes without even reading one ;
and truly the language of Solomon might be applied to so
vast a collection, “In making of books there is no end.”
How little did the monarch himself anticipate that his
words would hereafter be realized to so enormous an ex-
tent ; and when St. John foretold that every nation, and
kindred, and tongue, and people, should have the gospel
preached to them, he could have no idea how that appa-
rently incredible prophecy could be brought about by the
invention of printing, which has so multiplied the Scrip-
tures, that they are now translated into 150 different lan-
guages, and diffused into the remotest countries in the
globe. -
Nothing spoils a good appetite so thoroughly as a sur-
feit ; and those persons generally read least who possess
the largest libraries. They likewise become very desul-
tory students, on account of the many volumes claiming
IIILL AND WALLEY. 359
attention; therefore I am convinced that children should
be allowed few books, but encouraged thoroughly to
master and enjoy a small selection of the best. If we
could make ourselves perfectly acquainted with all that has
been written by six or eight of the cleverest authors in
their time, then we might be supposed better informed than
any one of them individually. -
In studying works of a devotional character, this limita-
tion is peculiarly important ; and I have often wished, if
conscientious clergymen had not already more to do than
can well be accomplished, that they would occasionally
circulate a list of religious works recommended to their pa-
rishoners, because at present one half of our time is squan-
dered in ascertaining what the other half should be bestow-
ed upon. .
The new system of book clubs must greatly injure the
taste of readers, because, nothing being circulated but the
newest publications, no one is fit for society till he has
rushed through them all indiscriminately, and any volume
above a year old is superannuated, like a ci-devant bonnet,
or an almanack of last year. Bookbinders are quite out
of employment now, for no volume survives to be hand-
somely bound, as the longest lived pages scarcely ever
wear out the loose half binding in which they are originally
dressed for making a debut. -
Dr. Bentley used to say he never opened a book except
for the sake of being able to quote it, and multitudes read
upon this system, without being disposed so frankly to ac-
knowledge it, while in many cases, to know a volume by
sight is considered sufficient, without cultivating more fa-
miliar intimacy.
When Dr. was lately asked if he had read some
new publication, his answer was, “No | I lost two days
last week, and have not yet read up to Saturday.” Thus,
the business of reading has become like a mail-coach din-
360 EIILL AND WALLEY.
ner, where any person pausing to look out at the window
falls irretrievably behind every one else. Many popular au-
thors write faster than other men can read, therefore it
often amuses me to observe how intolerably ignorant any
individual is thought, to whom three or four books are
named in succession which he is obliged to acknowledge not
having yet perused. The culprit may profess his intention
of doing so immediately, or the volumes may be entirely
out of his line,—he may be writing a book himself, or he
may have pored incessantly over folios measuring three
feet by four ; but all this will be of no more avail than
Boniface's shoulder of mutton that was eaten yesterday.
A verdict is brought in, by judge and jury, that he is “no
reader l’” I should like to see the man who would venture
into society now, without having read Sir Walter Scott’s
memoirs and the Pickwick Papers
Few readers take the trouble to form an opinion for
themselves on what they do study; and I wish all new pub-
lications were tried by a competent jury after one year’s
existence, and then, like the Spartan children, those not
promising future usefulness, to be forthwith condemned and
executed, while an authenticated catalogue of survivors
might be promulgated. Formerly reviewers exercised this
species of censorship, and volumes were occasionally
“ snuffed out by an article ;” but every publisher now has
the command of some magazine or newspaper, in which
the language of panegyric is exhausted upon whatever
work bears his own name on the title-page. Many young
men of talents gain a “respectable independence P’ by fol.
lowing the vocation of Mr. Puffin the Critic. They write
“ panegyrical superlatives * at so much a line, all “ma-
nufactured in the way of business,” and so perfectly un-
disguised in respect to their origin and aim, that no
auctioneer or horse-dealer can compete with them. The
puff direct-the puff preliminary, the puff collateral,—
HILL AND WALLEYs 361
and the puff oblique are all in requisition at once.
In a corner of the newspapers professedly reserved for
such literary advertisements; Lady is vociferously
congratulated on the brilliant success of her last fasci-
nating work, which far excels its otherwise unparalleled pre-
decessors—and Lord A, B, or C, hires the same column
that he may be flatteringly censured because his delinea-
tions of fashionable life are only too personal, while the wit
and originality sparkling throughout every page render his
satire only too piquante. Such authors have but one step
more to take, which has probably never before been sug-
gested, or no doubt it would be adopted without hesitation.
Fourteen or twenty men frequently parade the streets of
London now, in procession, carrying as many large pla-
cards to recommend Warren's Japan Blacking, or the last
importation of Crocodiles from Africa; and these persona-
ges might all be hired to march with flags bearing the usual
arbitrary injunction on such occasions :—
TRY LADY
’s NEW Now EL.
Many of those recent publications, “three volum’d and
once read,” after a short and brilliant career, retire to the
colonies, where they are sold for little more than sixpence
each. Several modern works, in which the lives of high-
waymen and swindlers are rendered so intensely interest.
ing, that we are forced, bon gré mal gré, to sympathize with
them, have been deservedly transported to Botany Bay,
where book-clubs are already established, and a great de-
mand is made for such fashionable novels as Eugene Aram,
Paul Clifford, Japhet, Gilbert Gurney, and Oliver Twist.
Any report of increased morality in England, is received
with more alarm and regret at Sidney, than rumours of a
failure in the exportation of tea from China would occasion
in London ; but most of our novels now describe a degree
of delicacy and propriety as prevalent in English drawing.
31
362 HILL AND WALLEY,
rooms, which, were it founded in truth, the recent emigrants
to Botany Bay might regret having been obliged to forsake,
though such sketches are written entirely from imagina-
tion, and certainly not very like the truth.
It would be well if such a literary bonfire were some-
times lighted as that of Don Quixote’s niece; or if Chris-
tians would occasionally imitate the example left them by
the people of Ephesus, who burned all books of a positively
pernicious tendency, “ and they counted the price of them,
and found it fifty thousand pieces of silver.” When a li-
brary is once formed, it long survives not only the owner,
but all the authors whose writings are collected there;
consequently, it becomes an affair of deep responsibility to
those who select what shall hereafter work good or mischief
among their own relatives and descendants, ages after they
are themselves in another world. -
Had it been in defence of the Bible, instead of the Ko-
ran, I should have cordially co-operated with the destroyer
of the Alexandrian library, who threw every book into the
fire which was written against its authority; but Omar
went farther than I would have done, when finding half the
volumes in favour of the Koran, he burned them also, be-
cause they must be useless | No stoves or fires of any kind
are allowed at this superb institution, in case of an acci-
dental conflagration taking place ; but if all the precious
ore contained in the Bodleian library could be smelted
down into a portable compass, what a mine of silent wis-
dom was here gathered around us, which had cost sleepless
nights, and anxious days, and laborious years to the wisest
and best men of former generations; who denied themselves
every relaxation of life, and toiled with unswerving dili-
gence to bequeath us their treasures of wisdom and know-
ledge. Many scarcely rested till they were at rest in the
grave, seeking to benefit us and our contemporaries whom
they could never expect to see ; and yet among the thou-
HILL AND VALLEY. 363
sands of volumes now standing in regimental order before
us, not one appeared that I ever saw before | Lord
used to say, he never found anything in books that he did
not know already I wonder how many of these he had
perused ? and he always objected to reading, because “he
had more ideas of his own than he knew what to do
with !” This not being our case, I should like to be lock-
ed up for a year in the Bodleian library to inspect it tho-
roughly ; but meantime one hour seemed scarcely suffi-
cient to examine a single shelf, and the most diligent stu-
dent in gazing round might be ready to exclaim like Mon-
taigne, “Que scais-je ?”
It was truly remarked, how insignificant a portion of
good men goes to the grave when they die, considering that
the soul ascends to heaven, while the mind remains on earth
in their writings, and even the bodily appearance is retain-
ed on canvas or in marble. A splendid collection of por-
traits is mingled with the books, as if each author had taken
a station here in propria persona, to watch over his own
productions. They thus reminded me of an amusing idea
in some fictitious narrative, where it is asserted that all
authors after death become instantly transported to the
moon, where they exist and remain visible as long as their
works continue to be remembered on earth. Homer and
Shakspeare were described as wonderfully hale and hearty
old men. Boswell and Johnson walked constantly hand in
hand. Controversial writers were still continually sparring.
Anonymous authors spoke without being seen. Others were
paraded about in sedan-chairs, and considered nearly gone,
while hundreds every day merely popped up their heads,
nodded and died.
How you were diverted formerly at the late Mr. ——
after he published, always taking aside every person he
met, to ask in a confidential tone, “Have you read my
book 7" when the invariable answer always was, “No l’’
364 HILL AND WALLEYs
I often wonder how many score of pens are at this moment
galloping over reams of paper for the press! Pens are
made of iron now, because there are not quills enough in
the world for all the authors
luminous, voluminous,
The twice ten hundred thousand daily scribes,
Whose pamphlets, volumes, newspapers illumine us.
When St. Paul wrote to Troas for his “books, but espe-
cially the parchments,” these last were probably his own
precious manuscripts, which have since been the delight
and comfort of so many successive ages; and in those days,
when each person’s library was copied by himself on very
expensive materials, there was none of that diffuseness and
fluency so prevalent now ; but the greatest number of
ideas distilled into the smallest quantity of words that the
case admitted of; while authors were obliged to think
twice before they wrote, which seems by no means neces-
sary now. **
During the hour when we inspected the Bodleian library,
but one solitary gentleman was reading, though every gra-
duate of the University has leave to study there. How
amusing it would have been to ascertain what chosen vo-
lume had the honour of being selected from the million of
competitors' Fifty thousand academical dissertations from
foreign universities compose one small item in the collec-
tion, but they will never find fifty thousand readers. The
very worms which had eaten those neglected folios, have died
of old age.
Several very beautiful models of ancient buildings are
shewn here, which, if blown out like soap-bubbles, to the
proper size, must be exact duplicates, with every stair-case,
window, and door, in such perfect proportion, that had we
seen them through a magnifying-glass, I should certainly
HILL AND WALLEY. 365
have stepped in. Among these, the Arch of Constantine
and the Parthenon were admirably represented.
In all galleries of eminence, like the Bodleian, we see
crowds of humorous Flemish pieces, a few faded Sir Joshu-
as, and several Vandycks, dressed in his livery of black.
Among many master-pieces, by the last-mentioned artist,
I admired most Lord Pembroke and Lord Strafford, both
very fine portraits, full of life and vivacity. The best
picture by Reynolds was a hard-featured, but very ani-
mated Charles XII. “ that name at which the world grew
pale.”
The celebrated portrait of Queen Mary equalled my ex-
pectations, and is quite a ne plus ultra, fully qualified to
maintain her reputation for extreme beauty. The expression
of countenance is so sweet and gentle, that it should be pub-
lished as a frontispiece to Tytler's vindication of her. The
only undisputed original which I had previously seen of
Mary Stuart was at Dalmahoy, not to mention the frightſul
one at Abbotsford, painted immediately after her head was
cut off. There are at least fifty more in Scotland said to be
genuine; but do you remember old Mr. ——, who executed
a likeness of the unfortunate queen himself, and always
maintained it to be “an original l’’
Handel's portrait is suspended there, and I could not but
think how astonished he would be at the fashionable ama-
teurs now, who seem indifferent to sentiment in music, if
they can only hear abundance of sound, and who prefer
difficulties to beauties. If any performer on the piano could
play a concerto with one finger, or on one note, it would at-
tract more rapturous applause than the whole poetry of
music combined, and expressed as we find it in composers
such as Beethoven, Mozart, and Handel. I often wish,
like Dr. Johnson, that Herz, Hummel, Czerny, and Thal-
berg's music were impossible. Handel’s personal appear.
ance seems to have been more like the “Harmonious Black-
31%
366 HILL AND WALLEY.
smith ” than you would expect, being rather coarse and
corpulent. Poets, painters, and musicians, should never be
fat; but unfortunately his appetite was beyond all bounds,
and like Major——, he could have bit a quarter out of the
globe when hungry. If all the ridiculous stories of Handel's
appetite be true, he might have been a formidable compe-
| titor at the recent eating match, carried on between a party
of gentlemen at ——, when the odds about twelve o’clock
were is favour of Mr. N -, because he was already “two
turkeys a-head of his antagonists.” During a journey,
Handel always ordered “ dinner for four,” and on these
occasions he pretended to wait some moments for his ima-
ginary guests, after which he sat down in apparent des-
pair, contriving nevertheless to devour the greater propor-
tion of what appeared. As a contrast to “our fat friend,” we
saw afterwards an emaciated portrait of Duns Scotus, the
great Scottish schoolman, who, according to tradition, wrote
so many books that no one man could read them all, and
if that had been possible, no one head could understand
them :-
he built up a formidable dyke
Between his own and others intellect.
This account of his works may diminish our regret that
the india-rubber of time has obliterated them all from the
face of the earth, and not a trace remains of that great
writer, in contrast to whom an ignorant man has always
since been called a Dunce, just as we call an empty pre-
tender to wisdom a Solomon. This diligent philosopher
undertook, as a meritorious penance, to copy the Bible in
manuscript, without tasting a morsel of food till the whole
task was accomplished, and he died of starvation at the
last page. In respect to diligence in transcribing the Bi-
ble, this illustrious Duns was completely outdone by a
gentleman in Scotland, whe several years ago wrote in a
EIILL AND WALLEY. 367
very beautiful hand three copies of the Holy Scriptures.
The first he sent to the Emperor of Russia, who returned a
splendid diamond ring in acknowledgment of so laborious
a gift; the second he presented to Queen Charlotte, who
wrote a letter of thanks in reply ; and the third he trans-
mitted to the Duchess of * * * *, who took no notice what-
ever of the donation. How frequently it happens thus,
that individuals are polite and well-bred in exact proportion
to their rank and consequence.
A portrait was pointed out in the Bodleian gallery, said
to be admirably executed by Penny. It represents the
Marquis of Granby administering charity to a sick soldier,
—rather an ostentatious exhibition; and we must hope
the artist’s name was not emblematical of the gratuity
bestowed.
On the stair-case hangs a very theatrical picture of
Addison's death, painted and grouped in attitudes such as
a company of second-rate French actors might probably
assume in a tableau to represent it. The dying Christian
is exhibited with a round face and good colour, not appa-
rently in any immediate danger, and much younger than
our distinguished moralist when he died; therefore I felt
very confident of his recovery.
When Addison sent for Lord Warwick “to see how a
Christian could die,” he was highly favoured in thus being
enabled to testify, that the support afforded him by religion
was fully adequate in that solemn hour of utmost need ;
but I always regret when a death-bed scene is considered
a criterion of the actual degree in which the soul is pre-
pared to depart. The very worst men have been known
to die with peculiar courage and composure, not reflect.
ing so deeply as others on the new existence they were
about to enter; and we are told by inspired authority, that
“ the wicked have no bands in their death.” Dr. ; d.
declared infidel, when informed that his end was instan-
368 HILL AND WALLEY.
taneously impending, called for pen and ink to make some
difficult calculations, that it might be seen how perfectly
clear his intellects were to the last ; and in many minds,
while life remains, vanity will thus have her part. The
very conjecture, that what is said on such occasions will
hereafter be remembered and repeated, and perhaps even
published, often causes, almost unconsciously, that artificial
feelings are expressed and real thoughts concealed. Death-
bed scenes on paper are always, therefore, of very ques-
tionable authority ; and a story which I heard once illus-
trates this opinion, while it must at the same time inevi-
tably make you smile. Some time ago one of our most
learned and pious clergymen, Dr. , had been convers-
ing at great length with a dying old woman, whose state
of mind appeared so truly exemplary, that he felt greatly
edified himself by her remarks, and was leaving the room,
deeply impressed with all that had passed, when she call-
ed him, and said, with a look of anxious curiosity,
“Now, Sir how soon will all that we’ve said be printed 7”
A man’s state of mind in the prospect of immediate dis-
solution depends much on the nature of his disease, on the
state of his nerves, and upon his original disposition, which
may be habitually calm or excitable, courageous or timid,
while the more power of reflection a dying Christian re-
tains, the more he must feel awed by the solemn change
about to take place, when all he has ever seen shall vanish,
and all he has ever hoped be realized. The most highly
favoured servants of God often become greatly agitated
and disturbed by the vivid impression distinctly present to
their minds of an endless futurity ; and if the last hours
of consciousness and reflection were of more importance
than the general tenor of a man's life and habits of thought,
we should have probably read a description in the sacred
pages of how Lazarus and the apostles died, which seems
purposely omitted to discountenance such a supposition.
HILL AND WALLEY. 369
When Miss M , the most celebrated beauty of her time,
was sinking into an early grave, she felt so impressed with
the importance of entire privacy for prayer and reflection,
that during several days before her death she shut out all
her friends, and desired to remain entirely alone, devoting
her last hours uninterruptedly to God. It is well, however,
that near connexions should witness in what degree our
dying moments are in keeping with the faith and hope in
which we lived, as they may be consoled, and even cheered,
by observing with what humble submission the last penal-
ty of sin is endured by a ransomed Christian, gratefully
seeking that rest which remaineth for the people of God.
At Oxford, strangers feel more in company with the
dead than with the living, while surrounded by so great a
multitude of ancient statues, pictures, books, colleges, and
churches, commemorating the names of those long since
departed, and who must have been forgotten centuries
ago, but for such long-enduring memorials as these, the
only means by which a name can be rendered more per-
manent than flowers that bloom and perish in a season.
In taking a final leave of the Bodleian library, and in
reflecting on its long existence during past and probably
future centuries, I thought of that aged man who lived
beyond the ordinary term of human Hiſe, in charge of a
celebrated gallery abroad, and was heard to say, in a tone
of mournful reflection, “When I consider how many gene-
rations of visitors have come here in my time to admire
these pictures, and were afterwards swept into the grave,
it seems to me now as if they were the shadows, and these
the realities P’
From the Bodleian we proceeded, in all the dignity of
“ Founder's kin,” as A satisfactorily proved, to visit
New College; and though the chapel lost many of
its most costly decorations at the Reformation, it still
remains one of the most beautiful gems in architecture
$70 HILL AND WALLEY,
that England can display. You were once amused by
hearing of an old woman who wished “The Deform Bill to
pass,” and certainly reforms introduced into our buildings
during the last century might be characterized in similar
terms. Fortunately our deans and prebendaries slumber-
ed in their stalls during the reign of bad taste ; for wher-
ever they lifted a trowel, they did harm. Even here, in
this beautiful chapel, several statues which once filled
various niches in the altar, were built up into the wall with
stone and mortar, a penalty inflicted on living culprits, in
times yet more barbarous, when nuns, like Constance de
Beverley, were entombed alive in the walls of their cells.
This chapel has lately been repaired with no little skill
by Sir Jeffrey Wyatt, or Wyatville, according to more
recent authority, as he has built a tasteful addition to his
name. Nothing can be more perfect than his imitation of
the gothic ; and though he could only guess what the ori-
ginal had been, yet certainly, every arch and pinnacle
either was or ought to have been there. Westmacot has
succeeded admirably in five marble altar-pieces on sacred
subjects, which were seen to great advantage beneath the
“ dim religious light” of the painted windows, which threw
every prismatic colour across the place where we stood.
I searched with great interest for that celebrated painting
on glass in New College chapel, representing the four car-
dinal and the three Christian virtues. Seven of the
greatest beauties at the court of George III. were invited
to sit in a group, and I instantly recognized our grand-
aunt Lady Dudley and Ward, who appeared as “Forti.
tude.” She certainly looked very resolute, her hand
resting on a pillar, which, though broken, still maintains
its upright position. On her right stands Temperance,
gracefully pouring out a glass of water, the temperance
societies now all allow tea and coffee. Hope seems
eagerly gazing upwards, as if about to spring off the earth;
HILL AND WALLEY. 371
and Prudence looks with anxious attention at the actions
of others, in order to take warning or example.
Above this very splendid group, is a fine representation
of “The Nativity,” in which, by a curious anachronism,
Mr. Jarvis, the artist, introduces among the shepherds,
portraits of Sir Joshua Reynolds, and other distinguished
friends of his own. The picture is finely drawn, though
in another respect not in accordance with sacred history,
as he supposes a miraculous light to beam from the in-
fant’s face, which sheds a brilliant halo around, illuminating
the virgin's countenance, and casting a fainter radiance
on the wise men and Joseph. How perverted is that taste
which cannot fully appreciate the Divine simplicity of
Holy Scripture, and the moral grandeur of Christ our
Saviour, who needed no such adventitious splendour to
mark his real greatness. Among Polish painters, every
Saint in the calendar carries a glory round his head, which
shows the natural tendency to exaggeration so prevalent
among those who are not Divinely taught ; and even Pro-
testants in the present day, though their friends cannot
now be canonized, do all that is possible, and more than
is right, to throw an almost supernatural halo around the
character of every deceased Christian, by saying and
writing much, which the humble follower of Christ would
himself have been the first to deprecate as entirely mis-
placed.
We were shewn, at New College chapel, a crosier which
belonged to the pious and learned Bishop Wykeham, a
splendid staff, seven feet long, richly gilt and ornamented
with gothic devices, amongst which appeared a miniature
image of the excellent prelate himself in a kneeling pos.
ture. Had Peter, and the other apostles, travelled with so
magnificent a staff in their hands, it would have been a
great incumbrance. The mitre seemed equally magni-
372 HILL AND WALLEY,
ficent, judging from the specimen of precious stones yet
exhibited as a part of its decorations.
I was astonished at being invited to proceed from New
College chapel to “The Theatre ſ” Side scenes, and drop
curtains, instantly rose upon my imagination, and I was
about to decline this extraordinary piece of morning dissi-
pation, when my ignorance was enlightened by discovering
that the building called, per excellence, “The Theatre,” is
only a recitation room, though certainly on a splendid
scale, calculated to contain an audience of three thousand
persons. You would begin a course of yawning, if I were
minutely to describe the measurement of such apartments,
the height of steeples, or the date of their being built ;
therefore, for farther particulars, apply to the Oxford
guide. The roof of this hall is very entertaining, being
covered with emblematical figures to exercise the ingenuity
of strangers in decyphering. Ignorance is represented
scoffing at genius; Truth on a cloud, unfortunately, she
more frequently remains behind one ; Printing stands also
depicted as a goddess, probably her first appearance in that
character, — she holds a number of proof-sheets in her
hand; Envy rises six feet high, with a terrific squint; and
Physic carries an emblem appropriate to that useful art.
One of the most agreeable appointments at Oxford is that
endowed by Dr. Radcliffe, who left £600 a-year to be ex-
pended in improving the science of medicine. Two medi-
cal gentlemen are selected to share this income, and to
travel during ten years all over the known or unknown
parts of our hemisphere, where they are enjoined to learn
the newest fashions in physic and diseases; but all their
discoveries will be superseded now, by the very popular
Homeopatic system, which cures all complaints by merely
smelling the remedies. A poor Highlander lately, of the
old school, who thought all doctors’ prescriptions were taken
internally, having been ordered leeches, actually, with some
HIII,I, AIND WALLEY. - 37 3
difficulty and reluctance, swallowed them Fortunately,
hot being the worse of this very novel experiment, his me-
dical adviser explained the mistake, and promised to send
another supply, saying, they must be put on externally. In
obedience to this direction, the patient’s wife, as soon as the
new leeches arrived, chopped them all down into a poultice.
Great was her astonishment afterwards, when her husband
being no better, the doctor came again, and became furious at
such extreme stupidity, declared that the unfortunate man
would die for want of relief, and that more must instantly
be procured, which she should put alive on his chest with-
out delay. The good woman now felt satisfied that no mis-
take could occur, and supposing they were meant, of course,
to work as a charm, she arranged the leeches all on the top
of her husband's trunk We now dipped into the Rad-
cliffe library, one of the finest among the many fine build-
ings in Oxford. The form is circular, surmounted by a pro-
digious dome, which is conspicuous from every point of view
where the city is visible. How splendid it would have ap-
peared at Constantinople, where every cupola is so bril-
liantly gilded, that they look like the sun itself; but the one
here only resembles a large cotton umbrella. Within
this institution is hung a princely portrait of George IV.,
certainly of as royal and majestic an aspect as can well
be imagined. Beside him, also painted by Sir Thomas
Lawrence, are pictures representing the Emperor of Rus-
sia and the King of Prussia, looking like mere valets com-
pared with our English monarch, so appropriately charac-
terized as “the first gentleman in Europe.” Two full-
length representations of Dr. Radcliffe were there, the one
in marble, and the other on canvas; therefore we could be
at no loss to imagine his very respectable appearance.
This gave us an opportunity to consider the long-disputed
point whether a portrait or a bust gives the most complete
idea of an unseen person’s aspect. Though the one has
32
374 HILL AND WALT, EY,
the advantage of colour, the other exhibits both full face
and profile, while we may cast the lights and shadows in
any way best suited to show the expression as well as the
features. Painting admits of more flattery; but where
rigid truth is required, a greater degree of accuracy pre-
vails in sculpture.
After enjoying a promenade in the famous Christ Church
walk, under a noble canopy of trees, we proceeded to take
a circuit of New College garden, and afterwards stole a
glance at Folly Bridge, a most inappropriate name for the
entrance to this great university. Never, probably, was
Oxford more thoroughly lionized in so short a time, or at
such full speed. You have heard of the gentleman who
imprudently eat a glass of ice at a ball, and was instant-
ly told that his life depended on dancing incessantly for
five hours, he certainly exerted himself most indefatiga-
bly; but we flatter ourselves he has at length been surpass-
ed.
Our peregrinations were commenced early, under a
bright and joyous sunshine ; but now, twilight itself had
vanished, and the dull shadows of the night fell over
everything, till we seemed walking through a solid screen
of ebony. How truly this day might be compared to a
lifetime ! The busy active morning, with each scene so
new and enlivening, the curiosity and expectation we
felt at first,-the weariness and exhaustion which follow-
ed,—till at last, satiated and worn out, we were now buried
in that silent and impenetrable gloom, which seemed like
an emblem of death itself:—
Night, like a widow in her weeds of woe,
Had gravely walk'd for hours this world below,
While like our quality, who darkling rise,
Fach star had op'd its fashionable eyes.
HILL AND WALLEYe 375
CHAPTER XXV.
For who
Would change the rocks of Scotland for the strand 3
DR. JoHNSON.
My DEAR Cousin, Here are we, safely deposited among
the rural solitudes and romantic beauties of Hyde Park
London, at this season, is a mere deserted village —no-
body that is anybody in town, not a shutter open in Gros-
venor Square. You might pasture a flock of Southdown
sheep in Portland Place,—and every carriage we see has
an imperial on the top. The sooner we escape ourselves
the better ; though you must not suppose, like Dr. John-
son, that “ he who is tired of London must be tired of
life, since there is in London every thing that life can af.
ford.
Shall I attempt, in a single page, to describe this gigan-
tic city ? Such an achievement would resemble that of
Crockford’s cook, who distilled a whole ox into a basin of
soup. Though Bonaparte struck out the word impossible
from his vocabulary, it remains in mine, and falls, like an
extinguisher, upon all my hopes of succeeding ; but take
Lord Byron's sketch, in full of all demands on ordinary
pens:–
— a wilderness of steeples peeping
On tip-toe, through their sea-coal canopy,
A huge, dun cupola, like a fool's-cap crown
On a fool's head, and there is London town.
Some skilful physician once remarked, that England
would certainly go off in an apoplexy at last, because the
circulation towards her extremities grows daily more lan-
376 HILL AND WALLEY.
guid, while every thing tends to the head ; and it gave me
some idea of the enormous scale which London is on now,
compared with former times, to hear that forty years ago,
the mail left this for Scotland with only one letter, and now
the average number that departs from the metropolis every
morning is 80,000 ! One clerk at the post-office is allow-
ed a considerable salary merely for turning all the directions
upwards, previous to their being arranged. How insigni-
ficant my one epistle will appear among so many And we
ourselves, after being accustomed to occasion some sensa-
tion at inns and villages in the wilds of Wales, feel now
reduced again to obscurity, like Cinderella when her car-
riage was turned into a pumpkin, her horses into mice,—
and herself into a mere nobody.
It is highly diverting to watch the incessant stream of
anxious busy faces unceasingly passing our window. No
mere loungers are in town at this season, or if cruel ne-
cessity detains any, they keep out of sight ; but the nu-
merous equestrians and pedestrians of every rank and de-
gree who do appear, are probably each of importance in
Some little coterie, -every one is, of course, pursuing some
favourite object, compared with which the whole world be-
sides is insignificant, and all will at last come under the
pen of their respective biographers, either in quarto or duo.
decimo, in magazines, journals, or penny tracts, in the
Newgate Calendar, or the annual obituary. Men of any
eminence can scarcely now exchange an ordinary invita-
tion to dinner, or return thanks for a box of grouse, with-
out the very natural apprehension that what they write
will either be printed in some volume of memoirs, or else
embalmed in a collection of autographs ; and I was amus-
ed during the last Parliament at Lord , who has such
an objection to his frank appearing in any lady’s album, that
he only gave one, after receiving a positive promise that
HILL AND WALLEY. 377
the cover should be turned inside out, and sent back by
the next post. -
You were diverted once to hear of the old lady who had
a nervous complaint which could only be relieved by talk-
ing ; but much as her friends had their complaisance put
to the test, by listening without intermission, you must
prepare to find me labouring under similar symptoms
when we meet. Make up your mind to be considerably
bored, and to have occasion for a large share of inexhausti-
ble patience.
You have often wondered, and so do I, to observe how
industriously many persons cultivate in themselves an ex-
treme degree of fastidiousness about conversation, which
leads to incessant irritation against their friends, for be-
ing tedious or common-place. Even Christians who pro-
fess to be prepared for the greatest trials of life, think it
allowable to exclaim loudly and peevishly against the in-
tolerable misery of associating with uncongenial minds,
and believe themselves prepared for martyrdom itself,
though not for such petty inconveniences. Certainly no-
thing is more soothing to our self-love than throwing the
blame of stupidity upon others, which might more justly
rest with ourselves ; and I have often been amazed at the
pride of intellect with which clever persons, or those who
reckon themselves so, talk contemptuously of “a bore,” as
being of a different species from themselves, scarcely fit to
live, and certainly not fit to live in their society. Genius
or wit, in whatever way these gifts may be perverted, fur-
nish undoubted tickets of admission and of welcome in se-
lect circles, where no crime is so great as that of failing to
entertain ; but how much rather I would possess the “one
talent” of Mrs. , who can render up her account
hereafter with joy, than the ten talents of , who
sets himself up as an idol to the literary world, and seems
to have said of his mental faculties, “they are our own :
378 HILL AND WALLEY.
who is lord over us 7” May we ever remember, my dear
cousin, that a solemn responsibility rests on all we think,
say, or do ; and while careful not to let even our thoughts
be such as might hurt the feelings of others, let us ever re-
member the example and the precepts of our Divine Mas-
ter, who has promised, that “to him who ordereth his con-
versation aright, He will shew salvation.”
Our correspondence is now about to terminate in the
way that all correspondences ought, by a happy meeting,
which will take place delightfully soon, for as A– says,
with railways and steam-boats no one place is more than
a hop, step, and a jump, from another. In the mean time,
I shall say no more, but ſollow the very judicious advice of
our favourite Cowper,
Tell not as new what ev'ry body knows,
And new or old, still hasten to a close.
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66 Appeal to Christians, &c. -
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