The North Wales Chronicle and Advertiser for the Principality

52.1rl0!) *rrltrr)). I A,ritill TO THE SUSPENSION BRIDGE, &e.I (Continued from our I.ast.) I On Snowdon's pointed peak, besides ourselves, about thirty persons were collected before three o'clock, waiting the dawn of dav. We sat down upon the summit, and attacked our provisions with the greatest alacrity.—It was piercingly cold, and I found brandy, on such an occasion, of no little use. We instinctively buttoned our coats, the ladies put on their shawls, and still we were shiver- ing. Grand, however, beyond description, was the scene; horror and dread were our first feelings oil contemplating the immense chasms below us, indistinctly sesai-and looking more hideous from their very indistinctness ;-this gradually gave way to a sensation of delight mingled with awe, at beholding more plainly, as day advanced, the mag- nificence of the view around and when the sun rose, nothing can describe the glorious spectacle. Standing on the highest ground in South Britain, 3,600 feet above the level of the sea, the sun seemed to rise from the depths of ocean far beneath us. As it rapidly ascended, darting its rays from hill to hill, every moment some fresh object for admiration arose.—Countless hills, over which Snowdon proudly'"towereil, surrounded its their tops peering up amidst clouds of mist, which ob- scured the valleys, and looking like islands ill the midst of the ocean. The Irish Sea-the Isle of Man—Anglesey, as a little garden, at our feet-the Menai Straits like a narrow hwok-the coasts of Clieshire-the mouth of the Dee, opposite which a tiny steam-boat was [dying its way, like a speck on the surface,—the distant shore of Ireland,—the dusky line of the Wieklow Mountains, came one after the other to our sight. Not the least beautiful objects, were the shadows of Snowdon. and the surrounding mountains, which were thrown in strong reliefupoll St. George's Channel, appearing to he another range in the distance;- whilst their apparent altitude diminished, inch by inch," with the altitude of the sun, till they, Like the baseless fabric of a vision "Left not a wreck behind." As the mists of the morning were dispelled, by far the most beautiful part of the scene was the region around us;—and the mountains rearing their heads, showing at their feet, fertile vales, and many sparking lake., which are all included in the district of Snowdonia, are richly worthy any trouble that the ascent may gii e. But I may at I tempt, and futile would it be, to g-ive an idea of the reality of the scene we witnessed it must be seen to be appreciated as it deserves. We pickcd up a few specimens of the stones, which are found upon Snowdon's summit, bearing the marks of cockle shells, and proving that some time or other a flood has rolled over that head, now so proudly pre-eminent. After revelling in the repeated view, we began to descend the mountain, taking the road to Beddgelert. Over a ridge, of not more than six feet wide, dividing a chasm of at least 500 feet deep, we had to proceed for nearly 200 yards, and it required gooll nerves to walk with conifdence along, as a very slight trip would have sufficed to hurl any- one into eternity. A track, very steep and fatigu- ing, followed, and the number of loose rocks and stones lying about, rendered the road we were now 9ig, much nore difficult than the one we ascend- 11 i. As we 4ot lower down, the heat increased rapidly, and whel1 we emerged from the shelter the side of the hill had afforded us from the rays of the snn, it was almost overwhelming. At the foot, but still three miles from our destination, we found a cottage, where we feasted, aye, literally feasted, upon hutter-milk, bread and cheese, and curds and whey; and here let me pay homage to the finest girt 1 saw in Wales-harefooted, plainly dressed, and assiduous to supply our wants, she had yet that dignity of carriage, which nature can give so much better than art; her beautiful ancle and well shaped foot, spoke for themselves her countenance beamed with expression, and glowed in native British beauty. She could not speak a word of English, so that I could only attract h.ii- notice by applying toher for something we wanted and I gave her, I must confess, twice the trouble I should have done, had she been ugly, or simply plain. If my Welsh beauty of Snowdon had been dressed with all the pride of art, and been intro- duced into society, she might have turned the heads of many a higher titled swain than the moun- taineers of her native district. Much refreshed bv our cottage fare, we toiled on to Beddgelert, which i\-c reached about nine o'clock, and where the ladies of our party betook themselves to bed, com pletely fatigued, although highly gratified hy our morning's excursion. The inn here, i the only one in the place, is delightfully situated in the midst of a rich wood overtopping which, a barren mountain rears its head in front. The neighbour- hood is romantic, and there are generally some fine waterfalls at a little distance, but the long drought had at this time rendered them dry heaps of rocks. The Church is a small building, but claims high antiquity, and the name of the village itself is derived from an affecting incident in the life of Llewellyn the Great. Returning to his house at this place, he was met bv his favourite dog, whose jaws were covered with gore he hastened to the nursery,—found the cradle of his child overturned,—the clothes all over blood,-was convinced the dng had destroyed his child,—drew his sword and killed the animal, which was at the moment licking his master's feet; but found, on turning np the cradle, his child aiive, and an im- mense wolf underneath, which having entered the house and attacked the infant, had been destroyed by the faithful dog. Deeplv grieved by this ereut, he erected a tomb over his dog's grave, and after- wards built a church, which lie named Bsdd C'elihart. or the Grave of Celihart, that being the name of his brave but ill-requited dog. After some hours' delay at Beddgelert we pro- ceeded on our journey in chaises, the only mode of conveyance, and were soon on the road to Capel Curig. The road is all the way grand and romantic; Snowdon towered above us, and we wound through some of the vales we had seen from the top,—rugged rocks and craggy mountains on every side of us. Here and there we had a patch of highly cultivated valley, whose fertility formed a strong contrast to the barrenness around. It was intensely hot ;-the heat of the sun was felt in all its force in these valleys, and I shall not forget the eagerness with which we abandoned our vehicles, to drink the water from a fountain spring which trickled down by the road side. We passed some small lakes, and arriving at Capel Curig-, took tea, and walked through the gardens of this delightful spot. It is situated on the edge of a lake, to which the gardens behind the house, lead they are laid out with great taste and judg- ment, and the view from them combines high cul- tivation with sterile barrenness; the stillness of a calm quiet lake, with the imposing grandeur of towering mountains. The inn itself is a very su- perior one, and aflords every accommodation that luxury can want, or comfort desire. We soon pursued our journey, and came upon the great ruad if?)) London to Holyhead we crossed into Denbighshire, and by the side ol a ynUing stream, went n our way tô l.laurwst. '1 he rich woods on our left, overhanging' the river, formed a strong contrast to the barrenness on our ng-ht. and a little further on we got a sight, of which ur had III) tJX- pectation. Our drivers stopped of their own ac cord, and directing us by a path through a wood, we soon came to the verge of a precipice, orer which tumbled a stream of water, which in winter, or after wet weather, must be tremendous, and whieh even now was quite enough to give, a fine idea of tie grandeur and sublimity of a 11\onntain torrent, hurled from rock to rock impetuous.— Ledges of rocks (livide it into three falls, dtoge- gether of considerable height, and cmh"sse,1 as it is in a rich wood, the bare crags over which it rolls, and the wild scenery around, give full effect to the magnificent spectacle. The cataract is called Rhyad y Wennol, and being within a few yards of the main road, is perfectly easy of access. Highly gratified, we resumed our seats, soon retch- ed Llanrwst, w here the Eagles' hospitable man- sion took us in it was by this time eleven o'clock, and our ladies crept to bed, but myself and two friends sat up till half past twelve, having been thus occupied twelit v- oul. hours in one day. It need hardly be said that I slept without rocking, and seldom have I enjoyed sounder repose, than when I sought its balmv influence. After a night of refreshing sleep, we arose with- out feeling the worse for our preceding day's fa tigue, and sallied forth before breakfast to the river, whieh runs close to the town, and divides the counties of Denbigh and Carnarvon. A highly picturesque bridge cross" the strcam. and with its surrounding scenery forms a favourite chject for the sketches of tourists. The slightest pnsh against the centre of this bridge, causes a H'TV sensible vibration of the whole structure this was called to our notice by a number of loungers who were on the bridge, and who were allxious to shake it for us, applying afterwards for a gTa- tuity, the usual penalty for sight-seeing and bridge shaking. Crossing over, we walked by the side of the river? on a raised sort of a terrace, finc!l shaded by lofty trees, towards an ohl mansion, called Gwydir House, a venerable liile, although but a small portion of its original extent now re- mains. It is beautifully situated at the foot of the hills, which rise richly wooded to their top, above the Conway, and commands a view of the whole vale, which is fertile and highly cultivated. It has long been a mere farm house, but is now undergoing a thorough repair, every thill being restored in its originnl style, in order to fit it for an occasional residence of its nohle proprietor.- Finding the doors open, we walked in, antllookcd through the house, whieh, however, with the ex ception of one room, presented nothing worthy of notice, as the masons' and carpenters'work was not sufficiently advaiieci. This was the old state room of the house, and was a good specimclI of baronial magnificence; it was wainscotted with fine old oak, the massy beams were carved with arms and other devices, which were also the adorn ments of a superbly-finished chimney piecc, of 110 modern sise, and whose supporters, two grim looking gentlemen, one suiinanied Julius, the other Augustus, glowed in all the pride of painted cheeks and gilded corslets. We were peeping, Paul Pry like, into every hole and corner, when the barking of a mastiff, who was eyeing us with no rery friendly looks, yet approached us with more of curiosity than absolute fierceness, startled us, and, lest we should 1, intrude too far, we made a deliberate retreat. We returned to break- fast at our inn, and were serenaded by a Jiarper, who gave us a line specimen of that truly national Welsh instrument, and played many favourite tunes in very excellent style. We had arranged for two cars to carry us to Conway; they arc pleasant vehicles to carry four;—one of ours was, as it is called, an inside, the other an outside ear, the difference being that in one you sit face to face, in the other back to hack, as in the Irish jaunting cars.—A little rivalry existed between the drivers, for they did not both belong to the same person, and the owner of the best horse was anxious by keeping along at a slapping pace to weary the other; but we had no idea of this, and made him moderate his speed, that we might more leisurely survey the delightful country all the way from Llanrwst to Conway. (To be cOlldudcd ill our next.)

 ?Stt?rarp %xtrart0. THE ITINERANT IN SCOTLAND. We introduce the following extract from Ix '/Jetr^. Itinerant in Scotland, as a proof of the hig-h degree of animal spirits that some of our fe!low men ure blessed with even in the midst of poverty and wretchedness, pleasantly exemplified in the broken down actor of the old school Previous to the dinner hour, sauntering* down Leitli Walk with my friend Gillchrist, a person ad- dressed me with mueh more politeness thnn all pearances would warrant, for a more shabby look ing mortal could scarcely be imagined. Manager Davies, the Roscius of all slovens, when he met me at the Inn, at Taunton, mentioned in the iiv.-t volume of this work, was a beau to this man. Sir, your most obedient, I doubt you have not the pleasure of my acquaintance, that is, 1 beg pardon, you do not recollect me, and if indeed you did it would not be much to your credit, for I am, as you see, seedam casto)\ seeaam togrji/, and as to my shirt, perhaps the least said about it the better, for as Tony Lebrun observes in your Itinerant, it would require a map to find the way into it.- vSir, I was formerly in your company at Worces- ter, with Powell, Pen, Richards, &c. and though our shares were but small, our tog-gs were decent, and we managed to get a share of the good things of this world j hut now, Sir," vicwing himself, "you sce how the land lies—Pockets are useless -and as to night caps, the first floor of a hayloft is a bed of down to poor Scrug-gins." There was a degree of what I call comic pa, thos in this man's address, far more effective to a mind not lost in sensuality than a downright zil) peal to the feelings, and in plain terms craving re lief; this was exemplified in my friend Gillchrist. and I perceived his hand stealing towards his pocket, whilst a tear stood in his eye for thlOugh. as Shakespeare says, "he was one of your fat sleek fellows that o'nights, &c" his heait never sJcpt in the day. But as I did not think it prudent to give way to my feelings, however generotw, from the impulse of the moment, without further investigation, I stept in between my friend and the object of his conimisseration, and observed. "I thillk I recollect something of your name Mr. Scroggins, but time makes a wonderful altc ration in us all-thii-tv years ago you must have been a young man. What line of business did you sustiin ? The lovers, Sir, the lovers, placing his hand to his breast, u pathos was my forte, though some thought otherwise-no matter for that.—Do you recollect, Sir, my RomeOJ I believe it w ill never he forgot in Worcester—" Arl e ftir sun. was proceeding prAt In\\lll, \\rt. tlu' speeeh. i\\ compared wit!1 :ldio!}, v. !>icu i phinly s-iw might tw more attractive ti- pto • I;¡t or profitable, ami therefore begged v, »-.il be less eiio- tic, h- Ihe Lei'h Walk uti.i nee, n.,t • v,,il inclin d towar d s him ;•>; t:i,, I enquired how Ill hid passul h: '»ie 1w 1: that country. "In the < i'l way, Sir, r.ever "\t¡,f""lt. H: it1.' from company to com pany, a«toms; ."vl at the sir pidilvofth«f v. orld -Tio ;cenin:« -imcr- d .y self a star, oihers tlmii:.ht was ;1 dark h'nVvn — alwavs esca p -d the «-reat bird, ii.» ever. —" Run the t f, I't twenty :J:, );1: r. 11 all the managers, from Itu.gins to from old C'iggins, t.»oid ln-ises—Mother I a!;er, Mother t':?<'v,?t'i?.?nf'<'h.'S)..);f-SpM,;< Sims, and Fia- rr. In s h ort, ^ir. t!.eie not si manager from Bristol to i.uihick Siayihy. that J have not, according tn s \ií(. rot I, tlf the same boat idth.—And I have |o;»nd. to<> late, tllitt a tl, stage player; and I think, fro n experience, I am as weM oualiifed to write as'rictiM'e on sturvin^, as any (infortunate homo t.h:»t supped l.et'.w en trap and lamp. I hop,- this ^eiu'eiiian is :m or he'il think me an odd ji a.-—!■( yuur <vir;rr Mr. Romney ? "?'hy yes, Mr. Sevog'T> tin? i.- ii* my eompanv at present: a hue l.gnt !.T tit,, i, he not r*' M y c,v*ii d laughed t_.ivv: :Ù¡tJ.1;}E,I; '(!j;¡' ¡,. you found yourself so c in !«•<' p- :II.I' :iJ 't; I: ,I'¡}:'I thè d H?na." u Mr. Ronwy, a \vis° man c h a:tger. !;s v. t often, a fool never T was a fool, Sir an iuf -n?.! •- there, perhaps, is I1nt a better pantomimic p.vf .r. nwr in the kingdom, than I am a' tll; l;('i, and for 11a1'1eqnin"- Here he too'II SI shofi run j!! the harlequin trip, and coming hack strut, k an attitude, "hieh So struck the people passing that we began to wish ourselves wdl quit of our com- panioll,-1 therefore })!) longer 1'tr;' ¡nut 111" friend's liberality, whose circumstances tllahJttl him to indulg-c the fcelm.,s of hi*- heart wUh h <s inconvenience than ] eould Wl th •» plaeed into his hand what it wa> plain t« perceive he did not expect, and at the same time promised loose my interest to procure a small sub«.-vij»i.ion for him the next day at the Tlnatre; if add-d I, as we left him, the atcmpt nvill not hurt our feelings; upon which, placing him elf i?t a iis trica] attitude, and touching his hat. in declamation, hr repeated, 44 Let tit.. g;.]J.-d wince, our witlwrs are unwrnnrr." ""T'" A\"ECI)OTi:S OF I.OR!) HYKOX. The following curious particular* rcli'iw toi this great peet Ùe extracted from" Th" ] rencii Tale Teller: A strange story is told of his f.ord-'hip'matri- monial commencement. liis Lady, it vv .uhl se»ni, was like her whom Goldsmith thus de-eiiS- *— Weeping, murmuring, complaining. Lost to every gay delight; (. llvri too sincere for feuuing, "t'eeU the approaching bridal niht: and we are grafoly told that she hit on the singu- lar expedient of finding a substitute. We pass over particulars to hasten (co au th-r story, which isgiven as the veal ran,e tlf titc doom which from time to time hung over his !.ol!bhip. He is supposed to speak to the writer :— Since Lady has confided her secrets to yon, you are aware that tyranny caused me to be a rebel in love, as well as in politics. 1 have known other despots in petticoats bolide hr- T.)Mis<(.———d?!re.)'t'?t I ?).?.? attach myself to her unless she "[ follow me every where attired as a page. Miss (i passed nearly a year with 1lI in t1:i, .tllll1< Unfortunate Miss G thc remembrance of her tragic death hannts me still." "I besought (the writer say«0 Lard Byron to grtify my curiosity respecting this adventure ..1' his 6rly days, and he (,o1!Scnte. [am not cer- tain that 1 have retained his expressions witii sufficient accuracy to relate what he told me in his own words; 1 will therefore speak of him in the third person. Miss <»• remained with 1',1 in at Ww- stead Abbey nearly a year, a page by day, an";¡ woman at night, so attentive, :o tender, and s«> sincere in her love, that she perhaps might have hoped that a lawful tie would one day reconcile her to the world. This illusion, secretly nourished hy her, and a character naturally volatile, com- bined to blind the young lad." with respect to her t, ue Mtuation. Sbe had qnirted a father, 01 small means, at London, to whom every fortnight six; sent some relief, when an imprudent friend in a letter informed her that ibis forsaken 1'111'1' I" destmyed himself in a paroxvsm of d->pait\ Was this caused by the embarrassed state of his affairs, tiii, ?aiise(i 1) v the embiirr:,s?,d ?t.t, of' Iii,, afl'?i, the latter supp"stion. hut she mentioned nothing of it to Lord Hyron, who onh perceived that she retircdsometimesata distance from him to w rite, and he succeeded in discovering her secret.—Miss had resolved to poison hcr>el«', aud wrote her determination to do so, that no 1"'1' might he accused of her death. 111 roll, aware of her object, took away the poison s he had procured, and substituted for it a powder perfectly harmless. One evening Miss G affected nior- viv^citv than usual, and pretended to "leep by beside of her lover, who was not ignorant that sli. propped to swallow, that very day, the potion which w". to terminate her life, and expected to smile the next morning at h,,r unforeseen awakening, after a sleep whieh she had rcck?ncd would be her last. He did not dread keeping MmmUy hinv-elf bHth?w disturbed w.? he at d?-hrc?))"tt<.tu:.t Miss G '1 he letter which announced lo r fatal resolution lay on th- night h',le; without doubt, thought hr, convinced that duth euv.ihtes in her veins, she has rerired to ive me the first view of her lifeless corpse, hut she will soon re- appear fully cured hv the very attempt :;he made on her life. Byron gnc:'«ed ri^ht in ra: hut Miss (1-- did not retllrn-clerl search for her was fruitier—and it was not before a week had elapsed that the unfortunate ifirl was found breathing her last sigh in the. vault of ti e sepulchre of tl,e ilv,v,„s, in ^hioh she ha.! sh,it •leiself up so as to lie unaliie to ?et out What must have been her suCbrin^s during ei.M I, days of agony, which, no doubt, 11" the tortures of hunger for those of poison. -"3-- almost as great in Fnnce as in this country Ti. new prison for fcm?ks. which is to )? ereVed i.? ?rts,w)tt cost three mmiuns.fr.ps'.w'r? at Geneva, the penitent?ry prison, wiiirii, tV.ou^i small, is relied the finest in Europe cost tnlr ??UGO fr.nes, and at Berne, a ne?-, i;.? i low I"ltling, to contain-JOlt 1 priso n will C'st only 700,(100 francs