horses, and sixteen naked boys," as the Cupids and juvenile angels are somewhat irreverently styled by the dry old chronicler, who, perhaps, had in himself a spice of the spirit of that Puritan mayor who, as he tells, caused "the giants to be broken, the devil in his feathers to be sent into limbo, and the dragon and the naked boys to be whipped away."

The richness of Chester in an architectural point of view, as well as in a picturesque, consists in the abundance of its examples of early urban domestic buildings: it has very few public structures of any consequence. The chief, of course, is the Cathedral; and it is in almost every respect inferior to the greater number of English cathedrals.

Chester in very early times had splendid ecclesiastical establishments. The chief of these was the Benedictine Abbey of St. Werburgh, which was of great extent, and very wealthy: at the suppression of monasteries, its annual income was found to exceed £1000. Chester was made the seat of one of the bishop's sees, created by Henry VIII., at the dissolution of religious houses. The Abbey Church became the cathedral, and the incomes of the bishop, the dean, and six prebendaries were provided out of the abbey property. The church was enlarged and altered, to adapt it to its new purpose; but the Reformation which so speedily followed is believed to have put a stop to the completion of the works. It was evidently intended to erect a stone roof over the nave and choir, but an ordinary wooden one was substituted. The cathedral is wholly in the perpendicular style of Gothic architecture; and though the western front is rather grand, and the Lady Chapel elegant, it is, on the whole, by no means a favourable specimen of that style. Externally it is plain and heavy, and the interior, though more pleasing, is not at all striking. There is little of the religious majesty and impressiveness of some other of our glorious cathedrals yet there is much that is interesting in the interior, especially in the choir, with its stalls and bishop's throne; and an hour will be well spent in examining it, and the conventual remains connected with it. The most noticeable point in the general external view is the unusual length of the south transept, which is nearly as long as the nave--a peculiarity, as far as we know, without parallel. The cathedral is built of the ordinary red sandstone of the neighbourhood, which is of a very friable nature, and the whole body of the edifice appears to be, in consequence, fast crumbling away. Parts of it have been of late carefully and judiciously restored.

The Chapter-house is much older than the cathedral, its builder being said to be Randal de Blundeville, who lived in the early part of the thirteenth century. It is of the early English style of architecture-and is, internally at least, the most beautiful architectural object in Chester. The form is a plain oblong, but the arrangement of the pillars in the entrance-chamber imparts something of originality to the general effect, while the details are all excellent. The ancient conventual buildings covered a very large space; and what remains of

them will repay the examination of those curious in this class of objects. There are eight or nine parish churches in Chester, and some have points of interest; we can only mention that some ruins of Norman date, attached to the Church of St. John, without the walls, are worth visiting.

Of the castle built by Hugh Lupus, hardly a fragment is left. The present Castle is of the last century. It is very large; and from its size rather imposing, but heavy. It is used as the Shire Hall, the county jail, and military barracks. To make way for it a portion of the old wall was pulled down; but the walk is continued, a new wall being carried somewhat farther out. The very handsome New Bridge which is carried across the Dee, close by the castle, must not pass unnoticed. It was erected from a design by the architect of the castle, Mr. T. Harrison, of Chester; it consists of but one arch, of 200 feet span, being the largest stone arch which had then been constructed; and it still we believe remains so, unless it has been rivalled by any of the vast structures raised by railway engineers. This bridge was opened in 1832 by her present Majesty, then Princess Victoria. In passing, we ought to mention perhaps the celebrated spot called the Roo-dee, or Chester race-course, which lies just under the wall, at no very great distance from the castle. The stranger will be sure to notice it in making the circuit of the walls, and be ready to acknowledge that the citizens are right in asserting that there is not such another convenient race-course to be found by any other English city. The Roo-dee is one of the oldest English race-courses. Strutt quotes from a native author of the time of Henry VIII., a passage to the effect, that "a bell of silver, valued at three shillings. and sixpence, or more, was to be annually given by the Company of Saddlers, to him who shall run the best and the farthest on horseback." The running was to take place on Shrove-Tuesday, in the presence of the mayor, and some of the city companies, "on the Roo-dee." This was in 1540; in 1624 the silver bell "of a good value, of eight or ten pounds or thereabout;" a striking instance of the change in the value of money in that interval.

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Chester, we have mentioned, was once a place of great commercial importance. It was a considerable port when Liverpool was hardly a port at all: but as the new one rose, the old one declined; and now hardly any shipping comes to Chester. Quite remarkable is the quiet, almost listless, aspect of the city and its inhabitants, to one who has just been observing the feverish and almost preternatural activity of Liverpool. With such a neighbour, it is surprising that Chester should have gone on so long in its dull old-fashioned course. But it cannot be expected to remain much longer as it is, now that it has become the centre of a considerable railway traffic. There are, indeed, so many symptoms of what is called improvement already noticeable, that we cannot help recommending the lovers of antiquity to follow honest old Fuller's advice, "to make their own eyes the expounders" of its aspect,

While at Chester, the stranger will doubtless visit Eaton Hall, the magnificent seat of the Marquis of Westminster it lies within a rich park, about three miles from the city, on the Shrewsbury road. It has long been one of the most celebrated of the mansions of the nobility, as well on account of its architectural claims as of its internal splendour, and the collection of pictures which it contains. For some time past it has been undergoing extensive alterations and embellishments; and, consequently, has not been open to the public when these shall be completed, access to it will, we hope, be as liberally granted as it was during the life of the late Marquis.

FLINT.

Crossing the "Wizard Dee," we now enter fairly upon the Welsh country. The best plan for the tourist will be, not to loiter by the way, looking at the lesser hills and meaner streams; but to proceed directly from Chester to Holywell or Conway, by the Holyhead Railway, or to Llangollen by the Shrewsbury line, according as he may intend to pursue his journey, along the coast, or through the interior: in either case, he enters at once upon a scene of great interest, and will be able to continue his route through a tract of increasing grandeur. For us, however, it seems necessary, lest our sketch should appear too imperfect, first to glance at two or three spots that perhaps ought not to be omitted in a notice of North Wales.

Hawarden is the first of these places. The pedestrian will find the walk to it by the Dee a very pleasant one; and if he have a little leisure, the place itself will repay the visit. It is usually visited for the sake of the ruined Castle, which will be seen, just out of the road, within the grounds of Sir S. R. Glynne, close by the modern mansion, called Hawarden Castle. The ruins are now carefully preserved; but they are slight, and, though not unpicturesque, are of little interest in comparison with many of the noble castellated remains which will hereafter be met with. The castle was first erected in Norman times; it was dismantled after its capture by the Parliamentarians in 1645. From the summit of the keep there is an extensive prospect. The richly-wooded park within which it stands also affords many pleasing views. Hawarden, or, as the natives call it, Harden, is apparently a thriving little town, with very little that is Welsh in the appearance of it or of its inhabitants. But generally, it may be remarked that Flintshire is by far the most English county in North Wales.

About a couple of miles beyond Hawarden are a few ivy-covered fragments of another of those strongholds which the Norman and early English conquerors raised wherever they obtained footing in Wales. Ewloe, or Owloe Castle, however, hardly ought to be termed a castle; it is rather one of those lesser fortresses, which in the north country are called peels. It stands on the

The glen below the castle is famed as the scene of the defeat of a branch of the army of Henry II. by the sons of Owen Gwynedd,-a victory the more grateful to the Welsh, inasmuch as it led to one of still greater moment; for Henry, incensed at the defeat of his soldiers, led the main body of his army against Gwynedd, who was encamped a few miles farther on, at a place called Coleshill, near Flint: but the English army was again routed, and the king himself escaped with some difficulty.

Mold, which is situated four or five miles to the westward, is one of the most important towns in Flintshire. Its situation in the midst of a district rich in minerals, has caused the accumulation of a considerable population: some 9000 persons reside within its boundaries. Little can be said for the beauty of the town, but there is a new county hall, of rather ambitious design, wherein the assizes are held; and the church is larger, and of a superior character to those generally seen in Welsh towns. The church was erected in the sixteenth century: the style is perpendicular, and it has a good tower. In the interior are a great many monuments, the most noticeable being a marble statue of a Welsh squire, hight Davies of Llanerch, who is very appropriately clad in a Roman habit. In the neighbourhood of Mold are coal and lead mines, iron-works, and the like. Celtic remains, including a gold torque, have been found here. At the village of Northop, not far from Mold, is another church, of a much better class than the ordinary parish churches in Wales.

A mile from Mold is a spot called Maes Garmon, whereon the Scots and Picts, who had invaded the land of the Britons, sustained a notable defeat: the particulars are told by venerable Bede, in his Ecclesiastical History,' and by other monkish chroniclers, with great unction. On the invasion of the Picts, the "fearful Britons" had assembled here in a valley surrounded by mountains: it was the holy season of Lent, which inspired in all religious thoughts; and in their distress they listened with devout attention to the teaching of the holy St. Germanus and Bishop Lupus, who had come amongst them to instruct them in the true doctrine, and who were now in the midst of the army. So efficacious did their exhortations prove, that the hardy warriors thronged in crowds to be baptized. The enemy having been duly informed by their spies of this unmartial employment of the army, hastened to the place, intending to surprise them while thus engaged; nothing doubting of an easy victory. But Germanus, aware of their approach, selected the most active of the British soldiers, and placing himself at their head, conducted them to the pass by which the heathen army must enter the valley. As the savage multitude drew near the spot where Germanus had secreted his followers, the holy man, raising the rood in his hands, thrice shouted aloud Hallelujah! The Britons, as they had been directed, repeated the cry, which the mountains on all sides re-echoed; and the enemy, struck with

dread by the sound, which appeared suddenly to peal forth, not alone from the surrounding rocks, but from the very sky itself, cast down their arms, and fled in fearful disorder. Many of them were drowned in the neighbouring river, and more slain by their relentless pursuers. Without the loss of a single man did the pious Britons thus achieve a perfect victory. In memory of so marvellous an event, the field has ever since borne the name of Maes Garmon,-the Field of Germanus. This memorable victory was gained in 429: in 1736, an Obelisk was erected by a modern Briton, Nathaniel Griffiths, of Rhual, to mark the site; and the particulars of the event are recorded upon it in sounding Latin. Mr. Griffiths, by the way, has chosen to call the vanquished "Picts and Saxons," which is certainly not as written in the Chronicles:' he has also placed the date in 420, which is also not according to the early scribes. While speaking of monuments, we may mention that the one seen on Moel Famau, the loftiest mountain in this vicinity, being 1840 feet above the level of the sea, was erected in commemoration of the jubilee, as it was called, of George III. The monument is a pyramid, 60 feet broad at the base, and 125 feet high. From its magnitude and lofty site, it is a conspicuous object for miles around, and even from the walls of Chester. Not far from Maes Garmon, a portion of the celebrated boundary, Offa's Dyke,' may be readily traced.

From Flint its ancient glory has entirely departed. Situated in a convenient nook at the estuary of the Dee, before the channel of that river filled with silt, Flint boasted of great commercial aptitude. The strong castle served to protect it from any sudden assault; a large and busy population filled its streets. When the navigation of the Dee was diverted, and the Mersey attracted the vessels which used to enter the wizard stream, Flint gradually declined. It still boasted itself the county town, but even that local eminence was lost

a man may

when, in the last century, the assizes were removed from it to be held in future in the rising town of Mold. Yet Flint has a strong attraction for the English visitor. In Flint Castle, "which," says old Hall, call Dolorous Castle, because there king Richard declined from his dignity, and lost the type of his glory and pre-eminency"-in Flint Castle it was that the meeting so often related by our old historians, and immortalized by Shakspere, took place between Richard II. and "the banished Bolingbroke."

The castle stands on a low rock which rises bluffly from the marshy shore. The banks generally are low and bare; when the tide is out, the broad estuary-it is here three miles across-presents the appearance of a naked sandy waste. Hall states that Richard, who had wandered from Carnarvon to Conway, and even to Beaumaris, in hope of finding a fortress strong enough and sufficiently provisioned to afford a prospect of a lengthened resistance, when apprised that Bolingbroke "was coming toward the Castle of Flint, . . . departed out of the castle and took the sands by the river Dee, trusting to escape to Chester, and there to have refuge and succour; but or he had far passed, he was forelayed and taken, and brought to the duke." Of the meeting itself

"King Richard's night, and Bolingbroke's fair day "it behoves us not here to speak.

Flint Castle was erected by Henry II. or his successor, and must have been, for the time, a place of enormous strength; yet it is said, that it was more than once taken by the Welsh princes, and retaken by the English. During the great civil war, Flint Castle was garrisoned for Charles by Roger Mostyn. It endured a long siege by the forces of the Parliament, and only surrendered when the garrison was reduced to the extremity of famine. Flint Castle was dismantled, by order of the Parliament, at the same time as those of

Rhyddlan and Hawarden. It was a square castle, with large round towers at the angles; one angle having a second and larger tower, intended, no doubt, to serve as the keep. All that remains of it now are portions of several towers, and a part of the walls-all in the most ruinous condition. (Cut, No. 3.) One of the towers fell, as lately as last winter; those that remain, as well as the walls, are full of rents. The governor of Flint Castle was also mayor of the borough and the half-civil half-military officer is still duly appointed, though the castle and the borough are alike decayed. A part of the site of the castle is occupied by the prison, a plain edifice, erected some sixty-five years back.

The town, as we have said, is now of little consequence and no comeliness: it is a very dirty sample of an inferior Welsh town. It has some fishing trade; in the neighbourhood are smelting-works; the parish contains above two thousand inhabitants, and it is resorted to by a few strangers for the benefit of bathing. A neat church has recently been erected, and also a markethouse.

HOLYWELL.

There is little beauty in the scenery around Flint; and indeed it may be said, that the tameness extends the whole distance of the line of the railway by the Dee-side from Chester to Holywell. Between Flint and Holywell the pedestrian will find little to arrest his attention, unless it be in the dirty-looking smelting village of Bagilt. All along here, by the way, occur at intervals smoky and ungainly works' of one kind and another-important and interesting enough, of course, in their way, but which we gladly hasten by.

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On approaching Holywell, however, the scenery improves, and there is a good deal that is observable in the vicinity. Not far from the Holywell station (and in rather too close proximity to a modern factory) are the remains of the once flourishing abbey of Basingwerk. They stand in what must once have been a very pretty spot, close by where the stream which flows from the wonder-working well falls into the estuary of the Dee. The foundation of this abbey is ascribed to Ranulph, Earl of Chester, who lived in the early part of the 12th century at the dissolution of monasteries, the annual revenue was estimated at above £150. Close by the abbey stood Basingwerk Castle, of which however hardly a fragment is now left. This castle, it is said, was erected by Richard, son of Hugh Lupus, the first Earl of Chester. According to the tradition, or legend, Richard had been on a pilgrimage to St. Winefred's Well, and on returning from it was attacked by a body of Welshmen, too numerous for his small band of retainers to withstand. He happily succeeded in reaching Basingwerk Abbey, where he sought sanctuary. But the Welsh closely beset the abbey; and the soldiers of his father were on the opposite side of the Dee, separated from him by some miles of deep water. In his emergency he supplicated the aid of St. Winefred (or as some say of St. Werburgh, but Chester

and Holywell must settle that), when suddenly the sands were raised above the waters, and his father's troops marched over them, speedily dispersed his enemies, and released him from his dangerous position:in commemoration whereof the sands have ever since been called the Constable's Sands.' The reader will see that there is a little confusion in the chronology here. If Basingwerk Abbey were founded in the 12th century, Richard could not well have taken refuge in it in the 11th; but it may have been, as was often the case, that the monastery was refounded, or rebuilt then, at the cost of Earl Ranulph, who, for his liberality, received the title of founder. Be that as it may, the story adds that Richard, in grateful recompense to the good monks, erected a castle by their house, in order henceforward to afford to them the protection which, in his emergency, they had extended to him. Not far from the castle the antiquary may discern traces of Watt's Dyke, a portion or continuation of the better known Offa's Dyke.

About a mile from the ruins of Basingwerk Abbey stands the town of Holywell, on the summit of a steep hill. On the way to it, where the hill rises abruptly, is the Well of St. Winefred, which we must turn aside to look at. to look at. The stranger is surprised by seeing a singularly graceful Gothic edifice, the purport of which he is at first at a loss to comprehend. On entering he sees that it covers a bath of goodly proportions, wherein perchance some in suitable garments are very deliberately moving about, while around it are others, halt, and lame, and withered, waiting as it should seem for some one to lift them into the water. Over head is a vaulted stone roof, of elaborate design and richly ornamented; but, among the ornaments, he observes some which, in the dim light, appear to him quite inexplicable. He looks at them with increasing wonder, till, when his eye has become accustomed to the obscurity, he discerns that they are crutches fixed in the groinings, and on inquiry he is informed that they are votive offerings placed there by those who have experienced the efficacy of the waters. Altogether the scene is an unusual one:-but then the well itself is of no ordinary kind. We must relate its origin.

In the seventh century the lord of these parts was one Thewith; by his wife, Wenlo, he had an only daughter, whose name was Winefred. Now the brother of Wenlo was a man of saintly character, who had devoted his life to the service of religion. Bueno, for so he was named, had founded a monastery, and built a church at Clynoeg, in Carnarvon, and there he had dwelt as abbot till the work of his hands had become firmly established, and the monks were well grounded in doctrine and discipline. Then he removed to where his sister abode, and begged of his brother-in-law a small piece of land, at the foot of the hill on which stood his palace, and thereon he erected for himself a cell, resolving to devote the remainder of his days to pious meditation, and to the instruction of his niece. The maiden was extremely beautiful, and under his teaching she became no less remarkably devout. Attracted by her