94 



There is a curious stone just below, near the fifth mile on the mail road, com- 

 memorating the death of the son of the Roman General Victorinus, and a little 

 stream runs hard by in a dingle called Cwrny-gelanedd, or the dell of slaughter. 

 It is impossible to notice all objects of interest. Maenest and Fynnon 

 Iltyd are on the bank on our right hand. Below is Llanhamlach Church, and 

 across the valley that of Llanfrynach, and the camps of Caerau and Tregare. 

 The Mehascin brook, fresh and cuol from that silent glen, Cwmorgwm, flowed 

 by these Roman camps of times gone by, and supplied their baths with the 

 purest of water. It is characteristic of this brook and of the adjacent mountain 

 str; am, the Cynrig, raid of all the streams flowing from the Beacon range into 

 the Usk, that they retain a certain size even in the driest summer weather. I 

 have repeatedly noticed that in extremely dry summer weather the "Wye is far 

 lower in compauson than the Usk, if you make due allowance for the water 

 abstracted for the canal. You see small streams diitd up in summer near the 

 head of the Wye ; you rarely, if ever, see such an occurrence in the Usk Valley. 

 The springs of the old red sandstone formation are stronger and more enduring 

 than those of the Silurian rocks. 



Whether we run our eye up the Cynrig Valley to where it rises at the foot 

 of the Beacons, or along that grand range of mountains above Pencelly, embracing 

 the Cwmbanw heights, or the Bryn, Brynteg. Bwlch-ar-fan, and that magnificent 

 offshoot of the range, Cefncyff, our gaze will rest with wonder on the twin 

 peaks of the Brecon Vans. There is little difference in the height of the two 

 points, but the eastern one is the higher, and measures 2,910 feet above sea 

 level. It has long been called " Cader Arthur," or Arthur's Chair, " famed 

 Arthur's Beacon Chair," and that mythological giant — not the good King of the 

 Round-table — is said to have made it his seat, the crescent of the mountain 

 behind forming the back of the chair. Where he put his legs history sayeth not. 



These Beacons have a fine outline, they are lofty, but yet clothed with 

 verdure to their summit, and always seem approachable and companionable. 

 The view from the summit is fine, and on an exceedingly clear day you may see 

 thirteen or fourteen counties, and the Bristol Channel from Swansea nearly to 

 Chepstow. 



The prettiest ascent is up the Cynrig Valley and the Crofte Glen. Then 

 by degrees the beauties of the mountains break upon you, and in the valley you 

 notice the ever-varying play of light and shadow : — 



" Not without frequent pause, as ever new 

 Some glorious prospect opens to the view 

 Of Nature's citadels, as one by one 

 The towers stand forth illumined by the sun." 



And who does not retain even more pleasant recollection of that spot on the 



top, between the lofty peaks, where there is a small spring of water :— 



" Safe on the summit, near that famous well, 

 Our bottles cooled within its rushy cell, 

 The social meal is shared, the wine is quaffed, 

 The speeches spoken, and the laughter laughed." 



