followed to Llanrwst; but the day was so hot that we
could only make use of the morning and evening.
Here we were joined, according to previous arrangement,
by Bishop Hobart, of New York, who remained with us
till two o’clock next day, and left us to complete
his hasty tour through North and South Wales.
In the afternoon arrived my old college friend and
youthful companion among the Alps, the Rev. R. Jones,
and in his car we all proceeded to the Falls of the
Conway, thence up that river to a newly-erected inn
on the Irish road, where we lodged; having passed
through bold and rocky scenery along the banks of
a stream which is a feeder of the Dee. Next morning
we turned from the Irish road three or four miles
to visit the ‘Valley of Meditation’ (Glyn
Mavyr) where Mr. Jones has, at present, a curacy, with
a comfortable parsonage. We slept at Corwen,
and went down the Dee to Llangollen, which you and
dear Lady B. know well. Called upon the celebrated
Recluses,[39] who hoped that you and Lady B. had not
forgotten them; they certainly had not forgotten you,
and they begged us to say that they retained a lively
remembrance of you both. We drank tea and passed
a couple of hours with them in the evening, having
visited the aqueduct over the Dee and Chirk Castle
in the afternoon. Lady E. has not been well,
and has suffered much in her eyes, but she is surprisingly
lively for her years. Miss P. is apparently in
unimpaired health. Next day I sent them the following
sonnet from Ruthin, which was conceived, and in a
great measure composed, in their grounds.
[39] The Lady E. Butler, and the Hon. Miss Ponsonby.
A stream, to mingle with your
favourite Dee,
Along the Vale of Meditation
flows;
So named by those fierce Britons,
pleased to see
In Nature’s face the
expression of repose, &c. &c.
We passed three days with Mr. Jones’s friends
in the vale of Clwyd, looking about us, and on the
Tuesday set off again, accompanied by our friend,
to complete our tour. We dined at Conway, walked
to Bennarth, the view from which is a good deal choked
up with wood. A small part of the castle has
been demolished for the sake of the new road to communicate
with the suspension-bridge, which they are about to
make to the small island opposite the castle, to be
connected by a long embankment with the opposite shore.
The bridge will, I think, prove rather ornamental
when time has taken off the newness of its supporting
masonry; but the mound deplorably impairs the majesty
of the water at high-tide; in fact it destroys its
lake-like appearance. Our drive to Aber in the
evening was charming; sun setting in glory. We
had also a delightful walk next morning up the vale
of Aber, terminated by a lofty waterfall; not much
in itself, but most striking as a closing accompaniment
to the secluded valley. Here, in the early morning,
I saw an odd sight—fifteen milk-maids together,
laden with their brimming pails. How cheerful