I looked down upon the rocky vale below, and the romantic pass it once commanded in the day of its power. Where the cattle now peacefully sought shelter in its lone, deserted court, chivalry and beauty once held sway; those battlements, grey and worn, casting their lengthening shadow upon the ruins fast mingling with the soil, had rung with the din of war; those tenantless halls re-echoed with mirth and song, or strains addressed to the ear of love and beauty, or the pride of some lordly chief. They, too, beheld from its walls the same far-spreading prospect, full of the same bold, picturesque beauties; but with feelings how different to those it now awakens in the lonely and thoughtful stranger's mind!

Rising from a bold projecting steep which overlooks the pass, in a wild, rocky valley, watered by the Lleder, the Castle appears from a distance embosomed in mountains, the crownless monarch of the scene. Dating as far back as the year 500-the work of one of the early Welsh rulers-it subsequently became the residence of Iorwerth Drwyndwn, the father of Llewellyn the Great, who was born at this strong-hold of the vale.

In dark and lawless times, the surrounding country became the prey of ferocious feuds between rival families and clans. One of these, descended from Owen Gwynedd, was opposed to that of Collwyn ap Tagno, and their wars presented a series of cruelties, perfidy, and deadliest revenge. To such lengths did they carry their animosity that Meredydd ap Jevan is stated to have purchased the Castle as a place of defence, whither to retreat from the violence of his own relatives, although the immediate vicinity was beset by the most desperate factions, bands of outlaws and robbers. His predecessor at Dolwyddelan, Hoel ap Evan, was a noted robberchief, yet Meredydd did not hesitate to take possession of his new castle; For I had rather,' he exclaimed, fight with outlaws and thieves than with my own blood and kindred. If I continue in my own house at Efionedd, I must either kill my own relations or be killed by them.' These quarrels between the great families most frequently ended in murder and assassination; and the valley of

6

Conway, which I traversed, witnessed the desperate deeds of lordly and gentlemanly banditti, who, in those unhappy times, made the people the sport and prey of their reckless conduct.

"They would quarrel,' according to Sir John Wynne, if it was but for the mastery of the country, and the first good-morrow. John Owen ap Meredydd and Howel ap Madoc Vychan fell out for no other reason. Howel and his people fought valiantly: when he fell, his mother placed her hand upon his head to prevent the fatal blow, and had half her hand and three of her fingers cut off by some of her nearest kindred. An attempt was made to kill Howel ap Rhys in his own house, by the sons of John ap Meredydd, for no other reason than that their servants had quarrelled about a fishery. They set fire to the mansion with great bundles of straw; the besieged, terrified with the flames, sheltered themselves under forms and benches, while Rhys, the old hero, stood, sword in hand, reproaching his men with cowardice, and telling them that he had often seen a greater smoke in their hall on a Christmas evening.'

These flagitious deeds seldom met with any other punishment than what resulted from private revenge, and too often composition was made for the most horrible murders. There was a gwerth, or a price of blood, from the slaughter of a king to the cutting off one of his least subject's little fingers.*

How strange a contrast now appeared! The flocks were carelessly feeding in the very heart of these bandit-haunts; the grasshopper chirped, and the birds built under the shadow of the tower;t while the serene joy and quiet of a Sabbath evening seemed shed on every object around. The weed covered its antique arched

* Williams's Caernarvon.

The lower part of the tower, which yet remains, extends to forty feet by twentyfive, and would appear to have consisted of three stories, and a court-yard running between the two portions. The walls are above six feet in thickness, and constructed of the stone of the country. Mr. Pennant says that in his time there remained the lower portion of two towers, measurements of which he gives. One only, and part of a wall belonging to the second, now exist, although Evans, Nicholson, and most recent Cambrian Tourists, repeat the statement of Pennant, and give his admeasure

ment.